From the Ashes
by Anubis81
Summary: DH Spoilers. AU. From the ashes of a dead Dark Lord, Wizarding Britain is heading slowly into a destruction created by it's inhabitants. One will rise above the others to establish a true lasting peace by bringing back some old traditions...
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of J.K. Rowling's world nor am I making any money from it. The Salama are my creation however.

Unbearable heat choked the earthen corridor as the wizard made his way through the dim light. His footsteps fell silently on the soft black soil as the tunnel spiraled down into the bosom of the earth. In the distance he could hear the sharp echoes of metal slamming on metal cradled far below him as he drew closer to his destination. Sweat dripped down his face, trickling down the back of his neck and absorbing into his high collar. The elegant dress shirt and slacks clung to the contours of his youthful frame, accenting his well-formed figure.

Desperately wiping at the tiny streams of moisture dribbling down his face, he smeared fresh dirt across his dirty face. His body itched, craved for a nice soothing bath to wash away the taint of uncleanliness from his body. Dirt infested his hair, under his nails and places that he was refusing to contemplate as his destination finally revealed itself around a bend.

Wearily he lowered himself on a moss blanketed boulder and bowed his head. Lank and greasy blonde locks fell to cover his dirt smudged face as he surrendered to aches accumulated from his long trek from the world that he knew. The hypnotic pounding from his feet subsided gradually as they were tucked carelessly under him, the wizard settled himself in for a long needed rest as he waited with barely concealed impatience. The wizard sneered as he lazily flicked a beetle off his ankle. Manicured nails drummed restlessly as he watched the creatures across the earthen chamber labor across the scorching infernos rising from the floor. He ignored the hostile glances that were sent his way, after all he was the intruder here and could afford to be generous - to a point.

His hand slipped into an inside pocket and retrieved a small wooden box, plain in appearance. His thumb caressed the invisible depression and slid the cover off gently. Rolling one of the fluffy white balls out, he slipped it into his mouth before replacing the small box. Silver eyes slid slowly closed as a burst of fruity flavor exploded on his tongue and the wizard sighed. "Finished?"

"Yes, they are as requested. Made with the finest metals that the Earth has to offer, adorned with the desired stones and crafted in the ways of old."

A single eyelid lazily opened to reveal a glint of skepticism twinkling in the silver eye. "There was no difficulty?"

"Nothing that we have not been able to overcome."

"Anything less than perfection and my Master will be displeased."

The creature shivered, "perfection was ordered and perfection has been created in every rivet and every gem."

"Let me judge the quality, it would be...unwise should they not measure to my Master's standards, for all of us."

"As the wizard says," the creature bowed. Snapping it's fingers, a large wooden cart was half pulled and half pushed in front. Gently lifting off the grim coated cloth from the top, the wizard gasped as the treasure was exposed to his sight.

His fingers hovered over the glittering pile, brushing the air above it as though stroking a lover. "If they are as you say, beyond their stunning beauty, than my Master will be most pleased with your work."

"We should be humbled, should we receive such praise from the lips of one who is destined to be placed in the stars."

"My Master requested another set of three - I am to inspect their progress." The wizard said as he watched the cloth once more conceal the glittering puddle of precious metals and stones.

The creature bowed and gestured for the blonde wizard to follow as it snaked it's way through the labyrinth of fiery pits. It's clawed feet dug through the soft layer of loose soil, spraying grains of dirt to the side as the wizard calmly followed in it's wake. He drew the edges of his stained cloak to his body, he was looking forward to leaving this particular nightmare behind him as quickly as he could manage. The wizard ignored the creatures bent over the infernos, laboring at their tasks as he approached the ornately carved doors.

"You need to be asking Daidalos, for he is tending to that order himself." The creature squeaked as it gestured at the great doors, "for he is the master of the dark forge itself."

Ignoring the spineless mess at his feet, the wizard pushed open the heavy doors and was assaulted by the ravaging heat from within the spacious chamber. Twice the size of the chamber he had just departed, the wizard staggered under the weight of the oppressive heat. Gasping molten air into his burning lungs, he forced himself to enter the room. Spots danced before his eyes, creating a weightless sensation in his head as he collapsed against the wall.

"Slowly drink this wizard-man, you're not crafted for the warmth of Ifestos' fires" Blindly, his burning hand sought the relief that the voice promised would be his. With both hands he guided the lip of the glass to his seared lips and tipped his head back. "Slowly! Too much, too fast will melt the flesh of your throat and cook your insides. I have no use for burnt wizard here!"

Sipping at the contents of the glass, "what is it?"

"Spring water from the Elysian Fields."

"From where?"

"Never mind. Why are you here wizard? I only associate with your people by appointment and _clearly_ you are not in possession of one."

"I am Draco, heir to the land, title and all entitlements of the ancient and noble House of Malfloy. My Master has sent me to retrieve the items which he engaged the services of the Salama to craft. I was also instructed to inquire about in regards to his special order." The younger Malfloy ducked his head, "whom do I have the honor of addressing?"

"Daidalos himself, master of the MAHV-rohs flames of the Infestos' Forge and child of Hephaestus himself."

Draco bowed, "I am indeed honored to stand before such a great artist such as yourself. I beg indulgence, that I might fulfill my Master's wish." His silver eyes shifted from the ground at his feet and quickly up at the dark red skinned creature towering above him. In all of his short life, the blonde wizard had never seen anyone close to the likes of Daidalos. Growing up in his father's house, the young Slytherin had been exposed to more frightening creatures at a tender age than the blacksmith. Living in a Slytherin household his entire life and later the Serpent's Den during his Hogwarts' years, he was well aware of that appearances meant next to nothing when dealing with those who claim no human ancestry.

Though Daidalos' general appearance spoke of being, having had a some human ancestry somewhere within his familial tree, Draco was all to aware that there were some-things that inhabited the wizarding world that create the illusion of appearing close to human. The young wizard shivered, hoping that he was not currently in the presence of something far worse. His master had not fit seen to include exactly _what_ was crafting the objects that he had been sent to retrieve. A search through the Malfloy Manor's vast library had yielded sparse information in regards to the sub-servant Salama that labored and created the glistening pile of treasure in the previous chamber. But he had been woefully prepared to encounter anything else. He could feel the subtle pulsing of magic wafting off Daidalos, making him weary of antgonizing him.

"A silver tongue to match the eyes! Do not fret, child, I have just finished with your master's special order." Daidalos snapped his hairy fingers, "let us take a look at my masterpieces." As the blacksmith spoke, a dozen elf like creatures scurried to the far side of the chamber and began to pull on black chain dangling from earthen wall. Grunting and snipping at each other, the elf creatures panted as the ground at Daidalos' feet began to shift. The ground beneath Draco's feet rumbled, bucking him airborne. The blonde wizard crumpled to the ground in a ball as the earth around him grumbled. He brushed a lock of hair from his eyes and watched as the earth crackled and boiled, tearing itself apart as a sharp crystal punctured the ground.

He sat stunned, mesmerized as the shard of crystal rose through the ground and hovered at Daidalos' hand. Swallowing, Draco tried to recall when he had ever seen that particular shade of blue before. Surrendering, he gazed helplessly at the blacksmith. "Contain herein is what your master desires." As he spoke, Daidalos' gently wrapped the crystal in linen. "Pay heed to my words: Do not touch the crystal, do not allow it to come into contact with _anything_ sentient. It is solely for your master's hands, as it is tailored to him alone. The crystal cannot be allowed contact with the sun nor the moon. Deliver this into his hands as I have wrapped it, or death will never deliver you from the consequences."

Looking at the young wizard, "heed my words of caution. Above all else that you leave with today, this is the most important to deliver safely _and_ intact." The burly blacksmith gently laid the wrapped crystal into a leather carrying pouch. Motioning to the Salama standing near the door, "take your master's creations."

Draco bowed slightly and gently hefted the leather bag to his shoulder. Turning he shrunk and pocketed the black cloth bag containing the small fortune of items from the Salama. With a sweep of his cloak, he quickly fled the oppressive chamber and hurried through the maze of fires. Reaching the corridor that would led him back into the light of day, he paused to catch his breath, The leather bag on his shoulder weighed heavily as he leaned against the earthen wall.

Summoning away the last quakes of his fear, he pushed up the winding corridor anxious to feel fresh air on his blistered skin. He reverently prayed to whatever benevolent deities might be listening, that he would never again have to venture down into the abyss where the Salama and their ilk dwelled. Draco felt fortunate that he journeyed into their lair whilst they were in one of their rare good moods. Goblin forged items where a mark of status amongst the pureblood, a single piece was worth more than just it's weight in gold these days. But items crafted by the gods of fire and forge themselves, Draco shudderd at the price tag that would have been attached to just one of the small beauties nestled in the black cloth bag. Goblin made items such as the famous Sword of Gryffindor were made to withstand anything and everything it encountered - except the magical flames sustained by the Salama themselves.

Where as Goblins had honed the skills and were grudgingly willing to craft objects for wizards from their hordes of gold and sold at abominable rates. Salama crafted objects were virtually unbuyable. Very few of the elite pureblood families could boost of having a single small, unadorned ring forged in the Salama fires. Once forged, the object was embued to hold enchantments caste by the owner and could only be destroyed by being returned to the fires from which it had been created.

Stumbling, Draco collapsed onto his knees as he sucked in the fresh evening air. Closing his eyes, he sighed in relief. Crawling across the rocky ground, the blonde wizard made his way past the magical wards and apparated back to Malfloy Manor. His gut clenched as he landed outside the fences bordering his ancestral home. Clunging to the wrought iron, he dragged his way along the fencing and used his body weight to swing the gate open. The blonde Slytherin struggled to stay on his feet as the cool air seared his lungs, forcing the heat out with each breath. The heavy oak door swung open and he stumbled into the entrance hall. Bracing himself against the wall, he summoned a house elf.

"How is Buggy serving Master Draco?"

The blonde wizard sighed, "fresh robes and a cool towel." The house elf bobbed it's head before blinking out quickly to carry out the wizard's orders. In a blink of an eye, the elf returned with the requested items. "Inform Mother and Father that I am leaving again. I have no idea when I will be able to return to the Manor."

"Yes Master Draco." The house elf bowed it's head before winking out again.

Sighing, the Malfloy heir wiped his sweat soaked face and neck before peeling off his dirty robes. Leaving the towel and robes in a heap at his feet on the floor, he tredged into the sitting room. Carelessly lighting the fire, he grabbed a pinch of green powder from the ornate bowl hanging nearby and tossed it into the flames. "London Portkey Hub, International Departures," the flames flickered green as he spoke. Squaring his shoulders, Draco Malfloy stepped into the floo.

His unsettled stomach threatened to heave it's contents forcifably all over the mosiac floor of the London Portkey center as he stumbled out of the floo. He grunted as he pulled himself up off the floor and glared at the few people walking past. The Blonde Slytherin's lips thinned as he pushed past groups of wizards and witches congrgated in the middle of the walk. Patience was not one of his vurtues, much to his master displeasure, but he refrained from hexing anyone as he fought his way to the portkey counter.

Five years since the self-proclaimed Dark Lord, Voldemort, had been vanquished and Draco still found himself on pins and needles waiting for his master to make his next move. To be honest, his master was constantly moving pieces around - just not striking. He had spent the last five years waiting for the axe to fall and wizarding Britain as everyone knew it under go the much needed changes that were planned. It wasn't his place though to hurry things on, after all the subtle shift of players had so far gone unnoticed by the general populace - more importantly, none at Hogwarts had noticed. Draco slipped to the side of the counter and patiently waited, his head leaned back against the wall.

Everything that he did now was simply a step in the right direction as he waited for his ship to come in. Voldemort had been sloppy and greedy, a recipe for disaster. Moving to fast and trying to grab too much without the means to keep it once he did have it, eventually stretched himself too thin. Instead of controlling the key areas of wizarding life, he had attempted to use brute force to enforce his dominace over everything. In addition, the paranoid psychopath neglected to ensure loyalty from those that had pledged themselves to him. Trusting in Legilimency to detect disloyalty and unimagined torture sessions to keep an iron grip on those who followed him. Branding them with the infamous Dark Mark was pure stupidity, letting all the world see who was following whom was simply a death sentence for all those involved as well as the movement's leader.

"Mister Malfloy, your portkey is ready."

Startled, Draco jumped slightly as his eyes snapped open. Nodding to the middle-aged witch, "which room?"

"B78, have a wonderful day." The attendent smiled as she handed over the felt hat, "be sure to pass on my greetings to any mutual friends you happen to see."

Draco nodded as he accepted the hat and made his way down the blue hall, watching the door numbers as he went. It was times like this he wished that the need for absolute secrecy was past, that they could walk out in the open and be reconized as the driving force behind returning their world to a better time for everyone involved. Voldemort's reign of terror had intially set his master's plans back, but in the end it also gave them a much needed edge that the half-blood upstart could never have accomplished. Locating the correct room, the younger Malfloy tapped his wand on the door knob. Firmly shutting the door behind him, he activated the portkey with a whispered "true" and was whisked away from London, Britain.

His insides twisted, knotting themselves as his body was pulled from the Isle of Britania, across the foamy Atlantic Ocean and finally to his destination. Silently screeching to an abrupt stop, he stumbled to the ground and emptied his stomach. Groaning, Draco struggled to his feet and lurched across the white sands towards the nearest apparation point.

Author's Note: This will be updated as I have time and my muse is available.


	2. Chapter 1

"First years, follow me! First years, follow me!" Hagrid's booming voice carried over the deafening hum of hundreds of voices of students exiting the Hogwarts' Express. "First years, follow me!" The youngsters quickly scrambled in the wake of the half-giant, not wishing to be left behind in the growing crowd. With the new students safely in the care of the grounds keeper, the older students fled the train's compartments quickly. Friends quickly crushed into the waiting thestrals pulled carriages, eager to spend more time together before being in the presence of the school's staff. One by one the school's carriages filled and began the trip up to the castle, bearing students towards the dawn of new academic year.

The carriages wound their way from the platform and through the main street of the bustling small village of Hogsmeade. Wizards and witches passing through happily returned the various greetings emanating from the school's carriages as the boisterous students savored their last precious minutes of un-supervised freedom until the end of their academic year. The sun slipped past the tree line as the carriages rounded the final bend in long trip leading to the ancient castle gates.

The Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry watched the last of the carriages depart and disappear into the growing darkness. Knowing that the Welcome Feast could not begin without her there, she sighed heavily feeling the years of her age upon her. She glanced around the office and leaned against the wall. The reality of five years of relative peace and stability crashed around her in waves as exhaustion crept on her.

After Dumbledore's retirement, she had taken his place as the school's head. Not until she was well immersed in the heart and soul functioning of the old school did she realize how taxing her new position was. She was only grateful that unlike most of her predecessors, she had a living and breathing advisor to help her as she had struggled to adjust. Together, they had worked with both the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix to rebuild their shattered world. The last of Voldemort's supporters had been rounded up and imprisoned in a place far worse than Azkaban Prison was.

Three years after Harry Potter had narrowly defeated the Dark Lord, she had stood as witness to the formal binding between Professors Vector and Sinistra. A year following, the staff as a whole had stood as witness to the binding of their Muggle Studies professor and a muggle. Since Chaste Hardwhick was a Muggleborn Hogwarts Alumni, it didn't surprise anyone that the quite Hufflepuff would have fallen in love with a young Muggle and had simply waited until the 1979 prophecy concerning one of Gryffindor's most famous students had reached a positive outcome. The Headmistress had watched as one by one, her surviving colleagues had all bonded or departed their old posts for other pastures - all but herself and one other.

The wizarding world of Great Britain was experiencing a rare baby boom now that the threats to potential offspring was eliminated, in addition to some shadow workings of the Ministry. Muggleborn enrollment was on the rise, their numbers still surpassed Pureblood students, but St, Mungos was projecting it was only a generation or two away from closing most of the gap between the two pedigrees. As time went by, the Headmistress bore witness to more and more positive changes in her world around her. But just as progress was made, there was some things in wizarding world that stubbornly stayed the same. The Ministry had tightened their fist, governing more than just magic usage as time progressed. With every new positive change, very few saw the future shaping into something that conjured fear and apprehension.

Minerva McGonagall stood before the assembled student body of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. The night's recent first-year sorting had been sentimentally overwhelming for the Gryffindor matron. As she had observed the nervous new students being divided amongst the four houses of the school, she had recalled previous sortings where she had supervised.

_A red haired girl with emerald eyes that stared up at the enchanted ceiling as she clutched the arm of a pale boy with onyx eyes and sallow skin. She remembered watching the pair as she read the names. Amongst their year, they had stood out in her mind as the most unlikely of duo. From the snatches of conversation, she was convinced that they were both of muggle decent and felt a flash of pity towards the pair. It had been obvious they had known each other prior to the train ride - how much, she didn't know yet. But where the girl was nervous, evidence by the non-stop questioning of her dark haired companion, the boy was quite and sullen._

_She had placed the Hat onto the boy's midnight hair and waited posed to retrieve it. When the Hat had taken several minutes to decide the boy's fate, she had found herself holding her breath in anticipation with a prayer to whatever deities where listening. After five minutes had passed, McGonagall had glanced nervously at the Headmaster and found the twin to her question mirrored in his blue eyes. The witch had jumped as the Sorting Hat suddenly shouted, ""Gryffindor!" _

_The staff members at the time had just stared in stunned silence as the boy leapt from the stool and raced happily to the house table, his tie a mix of gold and red stripes as he joined his new housemates. Slytherin house quickly stopped clapping and erupted into a roar of disbelief. Black looks flew across the room at the Lion's Den as they in turn watched curiously as the son of a dark house joined their numbers. For her part, the than Transfigurations Mistress had stood in shock as she watched her newest cub take his place at her house's table. A quick glance at Dumbledore seated at the High Table had her groaning at the sight of his maddening twinkling eyes._

_Returning her attention to the parchment in her hands, she had called out the next name. A petite girl, small for her age, with blonde ringlets pouring endlessly down her back, confidentially walked up and sat on the stool. She had smiled at the girl as she was quickly sorted into Hufflepuff. "Potter, James." The witch smiled, knowing that this young lad would be placed in Gryffindor. McGonagall nodded her head approvingly as the Hat had barely touched the top of his head before the young Potter was swaggering over to the Lion's House. A mousy boy with indistinguishable brown hair quickly followed on Potter's heels. _

"_Lupin, Remus." She smiled with encouragement as the small, pale first year slowly made his way _towards t_he stool. Her heart broke as the shy boy, Dumbledore's personal intreast case, climbed onto the stool and watched apprehensively as the Sorting Hat was lowered onto his head. McGonagall groaned as the Headmaster had leaned forward, obviously holding his breath as he waited along with the rest of the people in the Great Hall for the verdict. It had felt like an eternity had passed by before the Sorting Hat had revealed it's sentencing, "Gryffindor!" She was proven wrong in her guess a second time that night as the green eyed lass, that responded to "Evans, Lily" shyly approached the Lion's Den._

_McGonagall watched as the sallow skinned boy perched on the stool. To anyone who knew the signs, it was obvious that he was arguing with the Sorting Hat. She had wondered if the boy was arguing to be placed in Gryffindor as his Muggleborn friend just been. From the scant few observations that she had made of the boy in the hour of the Sorting Ceremony, the Head of Gryffindor felt that the boy would do well placed either in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw House. She was shocked and disappointed when the beaten up old hat growled,""**Slytherin is where you will dwell then!"**" A deathly silence had blanketed the Great Hall as the boy had shrugged the Sorting Hat off his head and allowed it to roll off his back before hitting the floor at his feet._

_Hogwarts' resident ghosts had hovered in silence as the boy had straightened to his full height, squared his shoulders and turned to stare at the staff seated behind him. He had the tenacity to start at the closest professor, Serendipity Lemongrass, and sneered down the length of wizards and witches from one end to the other. It might have been the Gryffindor witch's shocked imagination, but it had seemed to her as though he had actually **snarled** at the Headmaster when his cold eyes landed on him in turn before continuing down the line of stunned wizards and witches._

The Headmistress clapped absent-mindedly as the new students were sorted into their houses, forever segregated from the occupants of the others. While Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Houses were more willing and able to set aside house loyalties for the greater good, Gryffindor House had a harder time cooperating with the others. Slytherin House, despite bearing the dark stain of having nursed Tom Riddle into adulthood and proudly proclaimed the cunning of one of the bravest wizards to have lived since the time of the Four Founders, still maintained a public united front against the whole of the world. Where someone nurtured in the Viper's Pit would find an open door, the rest would find it barred against them. It was still said, despite their participation in the Final Battle, that Slytherin still looked out for their own and only their own.

The former Head of Gryffindor House watched as a blonde wizard happily made his way to the table of Snakes, her mind took her to another sorting years before. _Collecting the children from the Entrance Foyer, her breath had caught as she stared into familiar emerald eyes set in a familiar face she hadn't seen in over a decade. Her voice had become brisk as she had tried to hide the sadness that was swelling in her chest as she ushered the children into the Great Hall. She fought to keep her eyes off the boy, to move past the physical resemblance to his deceased father and the knowing eyes of his mother._

_The Transfigurations Mistress tried to catch the dark eyes of her younger colleague, but failed. With a heavy sigh, she placed the rugged hat onto the stool and clasped her shaking hands in front of her as they waited for the year serenade from the charmed hat. The Sorting Hat's song flowed over her, as she caught herself staring at the too thin boy. Unbidden, another boy floated to the front of her mind and she had to fight to bring her attention back to the present. With a deep sigh, she began the sorting itself. "Abbott,Hannah."_

_The Head of Gryffindor House absently noted the large influx of new students as the first year sorting line shortened. Yes, life was continuing now that the Dark Lord was vanquished, but she hadn't been able to stop herself wondering how much longer they would remain in the eye of the storm as she called the next name listed. "Potter, Harry." It didn't need a soothsayer to predict the sudden hush that covered the Great Hall as the boy had nervously made his way to the stool. Students and staff alike had strained to listen in on the internal conversation between the boy and the hat. The then Deputy Headmistress had glared at the Headmaster as he to was caught up in the moment and leaned across the table. She had spared a fleeting glance at her youngest colleague, receiving a cold sneer in reply._

_Unlike his father before him, the Sorting Hat had taken longer to decree the boy's fate and it seemed to the Transfigurations Mistress that the two were arguing before the hat announced it's verdict. ""Gryffindor!""""" She had watched as the boy had sighed with relief before cautiously making his way to his new house. The Gryffindor witch had wanted to ease the attention that the poor boy's name conjured by quickly calling the next name. _

_As quickly as she could, the Head of Gryffindor House had escaped back to the Head Table. Passing by the morose Head of Slytherin, she had discreetly patted his shoulder before taking her place at the Headmaster's right. Dumbledore's welcoming speech was lost on her as she had kept a stern eye on her house table, prepared to intervene should things suddenly get out of hand thanks to the addition of not only another of the Weasley's, but also the most famous child alive._

Minerva McGonagall jumped slightly as her deputy nudged her ribs, bringing her back to the present. For a few moments, she sat completely still. Her mind still a jumble of memories long since past before standing slowly up and making her way to the podium. The great owl perched at the base unfolded it's wings, projecting the image that it alone was responsible for holding up the top of the podium's platform.

Clearing her throat, the Headmistress let her gaze wander across the Great Hall from the Gryffindor House table to the Ravenclaws, down and across to the Huffelpuffs and finally to rest on the Slytherins. Her heart clenched as ghostly apparitions appeared, seated at their respective house tables. She grabbed the edges of the podium tightly, unaware that her fingers where fading fast into white from the ferocity of her grip. She gasped, collapsing against the podium. Her ears filled with the distant hum as tears welled in her eyes. The witch's chest painfully constricted as a great weight settled upon her shoulders, dragging her to the floor.


	3. chapter 2

"You really need to start taking better care of yourself, Minerva."

"I honestly don't know what happened, I haven't collapsed like that since after the Battle of Hogwarts. Considering that until that point, I was convinced that Albus was dead and then to suddenly see him alive, walking across the field like that. Well, I know that I wasn't the only that fainted that day." The Headmistress shook her head as she struggled to sit up.

"Down you stay," the mediwitch snapped. "You might be Headmistress of this school, but in the Infirmary _my_ word is law. At the moment, you'll stay where you are until I decide otherwise."

Chuckling, McGonagall laid back down on the cot. "You are such an insufferable witch, no wonder poor Sybil cracked and danced naked in the Great Hall during your Leaving Feast."

"Hey, Gryffindors are suppose to look out for each other!"

"Only in public, behind closed doors - anything goes dear child."

"So how long am I going to be a "child", Minerva? I graduated 4 years ago and took over for Madame Pomfrey three years ago?"

"Hermione, dear, compared to me, you will _always_ be a child. _But_ you will only be the Mediwitch for Hogwarts for as long as _you_ wish." The older witch stated as the younger one pulled the sheet up. "I really don't need to be here, I feel well enough to return to my own chambers."

"Nice try, but I don't recall _cunning_ being a Gryffindor trait. No Headmistress, stick with courage." Hermione said as sat on the opposite cot. "You collapsed tonight and I would be remiss in not keeping you here overnight at least, for observations at least."

"Any ideas as to _why_ I suddenly collapsed in front of the entire student body _and_ my staff?" McGonagall asked wearily as she turned her head towards the younger Gryffindor.

"You haven't been sleeping well, have you." Though she didn't phrase it as a question, the Headmistress could tell that it was.

Five short years ago, Hogwarts' resident Mediwitch was a student and held no sway over the former Head of Gryffindor. The Battle of Hogwarts or _The Battle_ or _The Final Battle_ had changed the course of countless lives - including the students who attended one of the foremost prestigious magical schools in their world. In the space of mere minutes, she had watched children who's biggest fear should have been what career path to choose suddenly transform into battle-harden aurors. With no small amount of pride, the Transfigurations Mistress had watched as the older students had taken their places alongside older, seasoned adults. In a daze, she had beheld the fifth and sixth year students take defensive positions along the ancient ramparts and others had elected to position themselves in the towers, to rain curses or hexes down upon the attackers.

"Here's is some Sleeping Potion, just in case." Mediwitch Granger said as she placed a vial of purple liquid next to the head of the cot. "Have you ever talked with anyone? I mean, about _The Battle_?"

"It's been five years, Hermione. I think that any ill mental effects would have manifested itself by now. No, all I need is a good night's sleep." The older witch insisted as she snuggled down into the sheets. "I'd prefer it in my own bed, however..."

"Sweet dreams, Minerva."

"Good night, Hermione." The older witch returned as her eyes fluttered close and she burrowed into the pillow.

With a soft "nox", Hermione Granger left the infirmary for her own bed.

The Headmistress smiled to herself as she listened to the receding footsteps of the younger witch slowly disappear. Sighing, she flung herself onto her back. Staring out the Infirmary's window, her mind drifted into the past. McGonagall felt as though she were spiraling out of control as the memories raged on and she was unable to stop herself. Tears leaked from her eyes, soaking the top sheet as she battled to stop the flow of memories.

_"Voldemort!" As the Boy-Who-Lived shouted the cursed name, McGonagall froze. She had known that the day would come that her students might be called upon to perform adult tasks before they were ready, but she had hoped that there would have been more time to prepare them. In that moment, she couldn't help but wonder how many of her pupils she would be laying to rest by the days end. The Transfigurations Mistress knew that she was being overly flamboyant in regards to the lives of the adults that where there, but she knew that they could take care of themselves._

_The fighting seemed to come to a stand still as the young Gryffindor wizard squared off with the dark one, a shiver flew down her spine as she watched the scene unfold before. Paralyzed, she watched as the Death Eater closest to her raised their wand. A distance part of her mind registered the wand pointed squarely at her chest and the beginnings of a curse slipping off their tongue. The Deputy Headmistress knew that she should defend herself, but it felt as though she was underwater; transfixed where she stood as the Death Eater's wand tip began to glow._

_As suddenly as the wand tip brightened, it died as a sharp blade burst through the unlucky Death Eater's chest. For a frightful moment, McGonagall's heart froze. She prayed that her younger colleague was somewhere safe. She was well aware of the events of the previous year and while she was still torn by the apparent betrayal, there was some part of her that never quite believed what Harry Potter had said. The Deputy Headmistress had trusted Dumbledore and by extension, the snarky Slytherin Head. That part of her rebelled at the thought that her dear friend had misplaced his trust. More than that, the Gryffindor Head couldn't reconcile that her own instincts were wrong twice in one lifetime. She refused to think about that small part of her that screamed of something more._

_As the Death Eater fell forward, crumpling at her feet; she looked up in horror into the skull face of another Death Eater. McGonagall's heart leapt into her throat as uncertainty paralyzed her. "Foolish!" She gasped softly, recognizing the dark velvet voice. "Watch your back, they're all out for __**blood**__ tonight and a silly Gryffindor witch bleeds just like anyone else." With those few words, her rescuer disappeared back into the swarm of bodies. She watched, detached from the going-ons around her, as the boy exchanged curse after curse; hex after hex flew back and forth between the dueling wizards. The fate of their world hung on speed, agility and good old fashioned luck._

_In the end the boy who they had pinned all their hopes and dreams on, had truimphed. She fell to her knees as reality crashed around her, grateful that it was over and saddened that so many had perished along the way. The Gryffindor Head cried for those who were unable to bear witness to the end of the tyranny wrought by the Dark Lord at the hands of Harry Potter. Her scattered thoughts flew back in time, conjuring the faces of the victims of the war until this day. She wondered how many graves would soon be dug, how many families where torn apart. McGonagall glanced up as a shadow fell upon her, "a hand up?"_

_Nodding through her tears, she gripped the offered hand and allowed herself to be pulled onto her feet. "Thank you, Mr. Malfloy."_

_"Least I can do, Professor." The youngest Malfloy replied as he gazed across the carnage, "so much waste."_

_"How is that? Would you have preferred that the Dark Lord have triumphed? That we were all now at your mercy?" She couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice as her eyes hardened. "Tell me, do you feel sadness that your **Master** has been defeated? That your **righteous** cause has been beaten?"_

_To the Transfiguration Mistress' shock, the young Slytherin laughed hard and loud as he stared at her. "Make no mistake, **Tom Malvolo Riddle** was **not** my Master." Draco Malfloy drew his cloak tighter about him as he straighten to his full height. "His cause was **never** mine, nor my family's." Without further explanation, he stalked away._

_Bewildered, she could do nothing but watch as he retreated into the turmoil of bodies. It seemed even with the head severed, the dark mass of bodies was bent on wrecking havoc on the survivors. Clutching her wand, McGonagall forced herself to enter the dying fray bent on capturing as many of the Death Eaters as she can. The Alpha Lioness prowled through the teeming mass of emotionally high strung bodies, stupifying anyone who bore the black robes of their dark order. She was amazed, seeing the number of wizards that seem to have turned against their brethern. The Deputy Headmistress hunted for the familiar onyx eyes of her friend as she tussled up one wizard after another. McGonagall felt an unusual sense of urgency as she wound her way through the swarming mass of wizards and witches. Legitimate concern rooted itself in her heart as she watched in horror as the Death Eaters that were still in fighting form where summarily executed to the cheers of the victors. _

_Her blood ran cold as she thought of her snarky comrade, knowing that without intervention, his fate would be far worse than anything that could she could imagine. Minerva McGonagall found him at least, encircled by Hogwarts' students. She reconized them as members of Harry Potter's ill-fated D.A. The Head of Gryffindor House cried in anguish as she pushed her way to the forefront just as Neville Longbottom lowered his wand and cried "curio!" Disgust marred her face as she pushed her students to the side and ripped the boy's wand from his hand._

_"How dare you! All this time I have nursed **cowards** in **my **den!" The Transfigurations Mistress watched as surprise melted away into disbelief on the faces of the seventh year Gryffindors. _

_**"He's a Death Eater!"**_

_**"He murdered Dumbledore!"**_

_"This is **my **fault." The Head of Gryffindor whispered as she sank to the ground next to the slightly convulsing form. "I tried to instill into you, my cubs, honor. I tried to led you through the dark times with my example." She brushed a single tear from her cheek. "To attack a defenseless wizard is an act I fully expect to be perpetrated by **Death Eaters**! I have housed **cowards**!" McGonagall stared wordlessly at the twitching circle of pupils as they glanced nervously between them._

_"Professor, it has been a **long** day. One filled with tragedy **and** truimph for our side. Our families and friends have been avenged with V-V-Voldemort's death. This **traitor** is responsible for numerous atrocities, in addition to the cold-blooded **murder** of our Headmaster." Neville said as he picked himself off the ground. "What kind of justice will **he** get? Azkaban? A Kiss? Surely, you cannot truly call us cowards for ensuring that this **slime** does not taste of what we endured this last year? Surely you of all people would not want to see leanacy for the man who **murdered** the Headmaster and fled into the night?"_

_"Neville Longbottom, I am **ashamed** of you - as would your parents if they were aware of your actions today!" She shook her head sadly, "I'm sorry. I am so sorry children, **I have failed you**." The proud Gryffindor whispered as her shoulders slumped in defeat._

_"Professor..."_

_"It is **I **who have failed, Minerva." A weary voice softly said from beyond the grave. Gasping the students whirled, wands raised and ready to fling curses. Their jaws dropped as they stared in shocked disbelief, their wands slipped from their hands and fell unbidden to the blood caked earth at their feet. _

_The Deputy Headmistress licked her parched lips as her sudden dry mouth tried to process what her eyes were seeing. "A-A-Albus?"_

_"Yes my dear friend, I am quite alive." The wrinkled hands gently clasped the Head of Gryffindor's, "all will be explained later. At present, we must tend to our young friend here. I fear that this last year has been especially hard on the poor boy."_

"Minerva, wake up!" The Headmistress woke with a start. Gasping, she clutched her chest and stared blankly up at the familiar face. "It was a nightmare, Professor."

"Yes, just a nightmare is all." Minerva muttered as she watched the Mediwitch straightened the sheets.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Hermione said as she sat down on the opposite cot and made herself comfortable.

"Talk about?"

"Talk about your nightmare," Hermione smiled slightly. "When I had one, my mother would come in and we'd talk about it. It always helped to make me feel better afterwards and there was always a good dream to follow."

"It's nothing to concern you, child." Minerva pushed the offer of assistance away.

"Just because a mediwitch's primary concern is the _physical_ aspect of her patients, doesn't mean that we don't care about the emotional or mental health as well. Talk to me, Minerva." As she spoke,the mediwitch reached out and clasped the Headmistress'hand. "We're friends and friends are always there for each other; even at four in the morning."

"The final battle," the former Head of Gryffindor mumbled.

"I understand, Minerva. I still go through phases where I can't sleep without a Sleeping Potion myself."

"I dreamt of when McNair was going to curse me and Severus showed up from out of no where, like he was a dark avenging angel. I would've been dead and never knowing that Mr. Potter had managed to fullfill the prophecy and brought our nightmare to an end. Then finding Severus on the ground being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse by some of _my own_ cubs!" Dabbing at her eyes, "I still can't believe them." McGonagall sniffled at the bitter memory, "than Albus suddenly appearing." Sighing, "I think that I'm going crazy."

"Nonsense, it's simply an acute case of stress build up. When was the last time you took a vacation? _A real vacation_?"

"Not sense Sev...Not since Albus retired."

"I want you to seriously consider taking one now, before I have to go to the Board of Governors and have them _insist_ on one."

"Oh,child, there's too much left to do. I really don't have the time for a vacation at the moment. A new school year has_ just_ started and ..."

"_And_ nothing Headmistress. Keep up the pace you have been setting for yourself, keep adding up the _stress_ that you are accumulating and you will find yourself _six feet deep_!" The mediwitch snapped, "and that is _not_ going to happen on _my_ watch!" Hermione Granger stamped her foot and crossed her arms as she stared down at her former house head. "You, Minerva McGonagall, I _never_ thought that I would see the sorry day that you tucked your tail and _ran like a __**coward**_over something as trivial as a little rest!"

"_I will take your __**recommendation**__ under advisement."_

"Fine! Be a stubborn _Gryffindor_!" In a whirl of robes, Hermione was at the Infirmary door. "I'm beginning to see why Professor Snape was always a complete arsehole to anyone _lucky enough_ to be sorted into Gryffindor!" The Infirmary door slammed shut behind the irate witch as she stomped through the corridor and back to her chambers, leaving the Headmistress to fume alone.

Mumbling to herself, Hermione snarled at the portrait guarding the door to her rooms. stepping inside, she slammed the door shut. Satisfied with the physical expulsion of a portion of her anger, she ripped her dressing robes off and tossed them in a heap on the floor. "Insufferable!" Rubbing her face, she quickly stripped down and crawled back into her waiting bed. Re-casting the monitor charm, she pulled her bed blankets up and snuggled into her pillow. In the darkness, her hand sought out the robes laying next to her. As she lost consciousness and was pulled into the arms of Morpheus once again, she buried her nose into the soft material.


	4. Chapter 3

After being released from the Infirmary and a reluctant medi-witch, McGonagall barricaded herself in her office at the top of Hogwarts' Administrative Tower. In addition to the various piles of paperwork that always accumulated at the start of term, she labored over more personal documents - paperwork related to the disbanding of the Order of the Phoenix. She felt the monstrous weight of completing the last dredges of her predecessor's loose ends. While Albus Dumbledore was still very much alive and in possession of all his mental facilities, it fell to his former second-in-command to muddle through the tedious paperwork involved compensating the surviving members of their order and ensuring estates passed to the appropriate next of kin.

"Mistress Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is wanting lunch, yes?"

The former Gryffindor Head jumped slightly as the house elf's voice broke through the fog that clouded her mind. "Yes, my usual please."

The house elf nodded her head, her ears flapping against the side of her face. "Very good, Metsie be getting fish and chips for Mistress Headmistress Minerva McGonagall."

Before Metsie could pop down to the school's kitchens to fill the lunch order, "please bring the tea kettle with you. I'm afraid that I still have lots to muddle through today before supper is served in the Great Hall."

"Metsie gets," the house elf promised before snapping out of the office.

Wearily sighing, the Transfigurations Mistress rubbed her temples as she took her glasses off. The burden of School Head bore down her, equally weighing the same as the burden of attending to the last few pieces of business belonging to the Order of the Phoenix. What the Ministry did not seize in the guise of fines and fees, was pitiful.

The Ministry of Magic, in a magnanimous gesture on their part, granted amnesty to _proven_ member of the Order of the Phoenix. Having granted them this generous disposition, the Ministry felt that retaining their freedom was the only reward they deserved despite public opinion at the conclusion of the series of trials that the Wizengamot insisted take place for not only the surviving members of Voldemort's Dark Order, but that of the Order of the Phoenix as well. As the Ex-Headmaster was repeatedly identified as the leader of the Order of the Phoenix by not only the accused Death Eaters, but also several key figures within the Order of the Phoenix as well - the Wizengamot had unanimously voted to remove Albus Dumbledore as Chief Warlock. A tangible fear of uncertainty swept through the ranks of Light Wizards. Without the influence of their leader, the fate that awaited the living members of the Order of the Phoenix became uncertain.

The Wizengamot went so far as to ban the presence of other Order members during each wizard and witch's individual trials, effectively separating the accused from the support generated by the presence of comrades - but also physically isolating their testimonies to prevent corruption of the presented accounts and any evidence involved in the cases. Aurors guarded the chambers were the examinations were being held, day and night to prevent any tampering magical or otherwise with the room itself. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement stretched itself like a living net over the Wizengamot Chambers, the prisoner holding cells and the very hallways connecting the two areas. Extensive wardings, bordering on the Dark Arts, pulsed through the very mortar of the walls and floors. Elaborate charms hummed through the air as the Aurors tightened their grips to both protect the Wizengamot members and the prisoners. As much as they were determined to protect them all from two different synching mobs, the Aurors were just as determined to prevent escapes.

"Metsie has brought fish and chips for Mistress Headmistress Minerva McGonagall's lunch. Metsie is noticing that the Mistress Professor McGonagall has not eaten breakfast, so Metsie has brought sandwiches for lunch as well." The elf said as she snapped her fingers, the lunch tray settled on a smaller table in the office's corner. A flick of the finger, and the house elf brought the smaller table to rest alongside the witch's chair.

"That is thoughtful of you, Metsie. But I doubt that I can eat as much in one sitting." McGonagall apologized as she looked into the elf's wide eyes.

"Metsie is to be caring for the Mistress Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. I's not be letting Mistress Professor McGonagall to be wanting. Master Headmaster orders Metsie before he leaves." The house elf calmly replied as a ornate black tea kettle floated above the matching cup. Metsie crooked her finger and the kettle tipped, pouring the tan liquid. "Metsie is to be watching over, _personal_ elf to school mistress."

The Gryffindor Lioness stared mesmerized at the familiar kettle as it finished pouring her tea. "Were did you get that kettle and cup?" Emotion choked her voice as her eyes remained glued to kettle as it settled on the small table with her tray. The afternoon light igniting the numerous sparkles in the silver paint lining the lip of the cup and kettle. The emerald paint shimmered in the sunlight as her frozen eyes remain transfixed to the coiling serpents dancing on the side of the kettle.

"Master Headmaster before Mistress Headmistress _give_ to Metsie before he leaves school." The house elf spoke softly, "Master Headmaster rewards Metsie for good service rendered during his Head of School-ship."

"Were you his personal elf as well, Metsie?"

"Metsie Master Headmaster's personal elf _all_ through Master's stay at Hogwarts." The house elf produced a black hankerchief with embroidered green initials and began to rub off a faint spot on the kettle's belly.

"You must have taken _very good_ care of Professor Snape than, Metsie." McGonagall managed to choke out as she tore her eyes away from the kettle. "But if this is your kettle and tea cup now, why use it to serve me? Surely he meant for you to enjoy it yourself?"

"Master Headmaster says you use it, use it to remember." The house elf replied rubbing her hands together.

"But Severus' portrait has not appeared!" The Headmistress cried, "where is he?"

Metsie hunched her shoulders, "I's _good_ house elf! I's keeping Master Headmaster's secrets!" The house elf suddenly popped out of the office before Hogwarts' Alpha Lioness could pounce.

"Damn!" Slumping in her chair, McGonagall rubbed her forehead. "Out with it, Phineas, I just know that you're _dying_ to chime in with your knuts worth."

"Be sure to record this day in _Hogwarts: A History_ - a _Gryffindor seeking __**advise**__ from a Slytherin_!"

"Nonsense, I simply won't have any rest until you've said you're piece."

"Headmaster/Headmistress portraits appear when they are ready to do so. Not even the Founders could coerce them to appear before _they are ready_." Phineas Black's portrait sneered as the other Head portraits nodded.

"So is he or is he _not_ dead!" The portraits as a whole glanced at the fustrated witch and turned as one, exiting their portraits. "_They're worse than __**he**__ ever was!_" The Headmistress fought the sudden intense urge to rip fistfuls of her auburn hair out. "Insufferable git!"

Pushing the mystery to the back of her mind firmly, she forced herself to resume her tedious work. As her quill violently danced across the parchment before her, the former Gryffindor Head's thoughts wandered back to circus of events that followed in the wake of the defeat of the Dark Lord.

In the months following the defeat of Voldemort and his Dark Order, the Wizarding World of Britain finished cracking in half as the population split itself into two sides. With the head of the serpent slain, one half cried for blood and the other cried for justice. Caught in the middle, both orders found themselves with little to no support. A full year of trials and obsessive examination resulted in the amnesty being awarded to the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix, many of whom ended up paupers after paying off various fines leveled by the Wizengamot for their use of Unforgiveables against legal and recognized citizens of the British Wizarding community.

Those that were found to bear the Dark Mark, branding them as followers of the defeated Dark Lord, found themselves exiled from the Wizarding world entirely. Magical doorways that manifest and open upon the tiniest hint of magic found, failed to recognize their magical signatures. Instead of shipping them off to Azkaban Prison, the Wizengamot members put their collective head together and dreamed into existence a better solution. Thus regulating the old prison to a relic of the past, preserved as a tourist destination in the chronicles of a dark hour in their world's history.

With the Dementors missing and at large somewhere in the world, the Wizengamot seized the wands of the Dark Wizards and warded them inside a magical island off the northern coast of Scotland. To ensure the island's new residents didn't use Muggle methods of escape, the bordering waters where infested with specially bred sea serpents that patrolled the waters. Utilizing Muggle methods of underwater fencing, to prevent the escape of these blood-hungry guards, a hand selected team of international Charm experts reinforced the physical boundaries of the serpents themselves.

A second guarding circle was constructed by a hand selected group of the top Transfiguration Masters. Pulling from the ocean floor itself, they cleverly constructed a partial earthen shell to complete the defenses of the new prison for high-end security dark wizards of Great Britain. The new Minister of Magic, a whale of a man with wavy chestnut hair combed over in the vain hope no one would notice the bald patch on his head, cheerfully boosted of the new wizard prison to a shower of cameras flashing and excited reporters from around the global chirping at him as the first of the new residents was carried away via a one-way portkey.

Shuffling the completed pile of paperwork to the _out going_ box, McGonagall wondered if the former Slytherin Head was on that island now. It would explain why his portrait had yet to appear amongst the others. Dumbledore reassured her that while his tenure was one of the shortest in the school's history, that upon his death a portrait would indeed appear. He hadn't been able to explain _why_ the portrait wasn't hanging amongst the others, then the speculation that the spy wasn't dead after all.

Despite the testimony of Order members, pensive memories from both the Golden trio _and _Albus Dumbledore, the Wizengamot had placed the former Headmaster on trial in one of their infamous _closed_ trials. The last time she had seen him, was when the army of aurors was escorting him from Hogwarts' grounds. McGonagall had wanted to rush forward and demand they take better care handling the Slytherin, but she knew that they would never allow anyone close to him. Silent tears had fallen from her eyes as she watched his body tremble, whether it was from fear or the after effects of Neville Longbottom's Cruciatus - she wasn't sure. To her dismay, neither the _Daily Prophet_ or _The Quibbler_ mentioned the Potions Master's fate. It was as though he had simply vanished, without a trace. Whatever became of him, the few auror friends she still had left were as tight lipped as Gringotts was burglar-proof.

The Headmistress shuddered as her quill scratched across a new pile of parchment. The years leading from his disappearance had not been kind to their world. She tried to shy away from the memories of the past, events that she had hoped to never witness first hand. Medi-witch Granger had commented at the time that history was repeating itself, only this time it was happening in the magical world itself. It wasn't until she had loaned her former Head of House a thick volume of Muggle history that she fully understood and could see the similarities in two. McGonagall's first instinct had been to flee as far and as fast as she could from Britain. However, her obligations and sense of duty to the students under her care overcame her primitive instinct. Like the house she had been sorted into so long ago, the Lioness stood her ground and bravely stared into the approaching grim future.

The first anniversary of the defeat of the Dark Lord, born as Tom Malvolo Riddle, was peaceful enough. Fireworks danced in the sky as the Ministry of Magic declared a national holiday. Gringotts, MoM, and Hogwarts closed down for the celebrations. The shops in Diagon Alley closed their doors as these wizarding population took letting it's collective hair down. All through out their world families deserted their homes and businesses to attend the festivities that were springing up everywhere. It was also the night of strange and unexplained activities.

Rumors sprang up over night of strange creatures slipping from the shadows and walking in the night. People began to disappear, vanishing without a trace. The more hysterical accounts were of the dead rising from their earthen graves and walking about amongst the living. Magically created zombies, the Inferi, were quickly eliminated as possible suspects. Charms masters suddenly found themselves in higher demand as the general population surged into a full grown panic as more and more people were vanishing, some from their own homes. The most puzzling aspect was that the majority of those who were disappearing were ordinary citizens with very little to no importance. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was stumped, there seem to be nothing connecting the missing wizards and witches together. When aurors arrived at the scenes of these abductions, they discovered a clean crime scene. Everything bit of potential clues was carefully wiped away, including the magical signature of the victims.

The fever of the abductions slowly ebbed away. As the dawn of the second anniversary crept upon them, the British wizarding community was shocked by the suicide of the Minster of Magic. His assistant arrived a bit early to begin the last few touches to a proposed legislation act that was to be presented in the final session of the Wizengamot before the new year.

The Headmistress sighed as she placed the final piece of parchment into her _out going_ box. Slowly stretching the cramped muscles in her hands and back, the former Gryffindor Head unfolded her legs and stood.

_A/N:** The wonderful muse that has been whispering in my ear **forced** me to go back and re-write a bit of chapter one so that this chapter fits in better.**_

_**Sorry this one has taken so long. Real life has become quite hectic - between work (making hand-made NATURAL commercial jerky) and my estranged father being the ICU at the hospital has taken up quite a bit of my time. I am currently **SEARCHING** for a beta reader, so in the meantime please bear with me. Thank you.**_

**Anubis81**


	5. Chapter 4

"Welcome, one and all, to another year here at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I apologize, for last evening's incident. As your parents and older siblings have no doubt told you, the _Final Battle_ took a heavy toll on not only our world - but here at Hogwarts as well." Taking a deep breath, the Lioness continued. "Last night, during the Sorting Ceremony - a time when you take the first steps towards becoming the wizards and witches that you will one day become. I found myself reliving two such ceremonies, the participates of such that have shaped our world. These wizards and witches laid the very foundations of which gave us the _courage, _the _loyalty_, the _cleverness_ and the _cunning_ for which we _used_ to be victorious in the end." Taking a sip of Pumpkin juice, McGonagall swallowed before continuing. "Due to last night's events, my Beginning Term speech is a tad late, but none the less, you will hear it."

"Two decades ago, I stood in this very hall as the very _hope_ of our world entered to be Sorted; just as you were last night. Hope came in the form of three first years; two were sorted into Gryffindor and one was placed in Slytherin House. The than eleven year old witch and wizard who was placed in Gryffindor grew up to be typical Gryffindor parents. Though they did not lack courage, as they faced some of the darkest wizards of their generation on several occasions, they hid themselves. Not from fear of death or worse, but to protect their only child. A child that was destined to play a pivotal role before he even held his first wand or rode his first broom. Betrayal by a housemate and personal friend of this couple cost them their lives and granted the rest of their world a respite from tyranny. In addition, a child was left orphaned - without blood kin in our world. I will not re-tell the story of Harold James Potter. For those ignorant, Professor Lovegood will be covering him in her class.

"As opposite as white to dark, the third child sorted that stormy night made his home in the castle dungeons - the home of Slytherin House. Like Harry Potter's parents, Severus Tobias Snape played a key role in the war - the war between Light and Dark. Fate is a fickle Mistress, and there is not one of us who can truly divine the entire tapestry until it is complete. The only one who can tell the tale of Severus joining Voldemort's dark order is the man himself and his climb back into the Light. For his part, he played the Judas in Voldemort's camp. For two decades, he embodied the emblem of his house and waited like a snake in the shadows. He always listened to the gatherings of our world's darkest wizards. He successfully camouflaged himself from not only the Death Eaters and Voldemort, but the rest of the world." The Headmistress swallowed another sip of juice. "It is to Severus Tobias Snape, Lily Evans-Potter and James Harold Potter to that we owe for laying the foundation for protection of our lives, freedoms and the world we live in as we know it."

Shifting her weight to her other foot, McGonagall continued. "The world they fought to _preserve_ and protect was one _free_ of _**tyranny **_and _**oppression**_. They fought, bleed and _died _to prevent future generations from enslavement - so that future generations of witch, wizard, and squib would never know the darkness that they endured. Countless lives were sacrificed upon the altar of _Victory_ so that whether _**you**_ are Pureblood, Half-blood, or Muggleborn - _**you**_ would have the basic fundamental _right to __**live**_." Glancing around at the silent hall, her eyes lingered on the Serpents' Den longer than the other House Tables. "Brave and courageous Gryffindors. Loyal and true Huffelpuffs. Smart and curious Ravenclaws. Cunning and clever Slytherins. From your four _noble_ houses have nursed the greatest wizards each generation. Voldemort's war proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that _each_ house is capable of producing the blackest mages _and_ whitest. Do not forget that it was the sacrificed of two Gryffindors' that wrought the end of one of the worst dark wizards of the ages _and, _in that _**very**_ same generation, produced a most heinous Judas! Slytherin House may have the dishonor of sheltering a wizard with the most foulest of hearts - yet it also holds the highest honor as it produced the one wizard who was cunning enough to engineer that same wizard's demise."

Taking a third sip from her glass, the Lioness glanced over the pensive hall. "Let me welcome each and everyone of you to Hogwarts. As you attend your classes, walk these halls and gather together in your common rooms this year - keep one thing in your minds. There once was a half-blood boy who used predjuice, fear and terror to gather his followers. Right of blood status went out with the Dark Ages and regardless of yours, it will garner you _no special priveleges_ here." Resting her hands on the podium, "after all it didn't play into for the four principle slayers of Voldemort." Holding four fingers high, so that all in the Great Hall could clearly see. "James Harold Potter was a Pureblood." As she listed the names, one of her fingers curled back into her palm. "Lily Evans-Potter, Muggleborn." A second finger joined the first, followed by a third. "Harry "the boy-who-lived" James Potter is a half-blood." She bit her lip to keep the emotion in check as she curled her fourth finger into her palm. "Severus Tobias Snape, half-blood."

The Headmistress returned to her chair located in the middle of the Staff Table as her Deputy Headmaster rose from his seat. "I believe that dinner is now served." He glanced at the Headmistress quickly before taking his seat, "do you need to see Ms. Granger?"

"No, I'm simply lost in thought."

"What year are you wandering around in?"

Chuckling softly, "that obvious?"

"Only to someone who knows you as well as I."

"I suppose that you count amongst that number, though there are few and fewer with each passing year."

"So, a knut for your thoughts?"

"These last five years," she absently replied. "It seems since my spell last night, I can't pull my mind out of the past."

"Ah, I understand. With so much that has happened recently, we're all feeling like the proverbial head beneath the hovering axe these days."

"Wishing you were still at Drumstrang than, Charles?"

"Not at all, Headmistress. Have you read the latest _improvements_ that have been made? Ha, we might as well be back in the Dark Ages! Every witch, wizard _and _squib are now required to register with their local offices of Ministry _Human_ Resources department. Things are far darker at home than here, for now." Hogwarts' Deputy Headmaster snorted, "Britain isn't as bad as some places _yet_."

The Headmistress nodded her head as she slipped back into her memories. It was the second year after Harry Potter's Pyrrhic victory that things slowly began to change - to slow to really _see_ what was coming towards them. The second anniversary of Voldemort's defeat found the British Wizarding World locked down under tightening Ministry control. Magical doorways between the Wizarding World and the Muggle World were locked, keys being designated to assigned Ministry personnel specially assigned in assisting Muggleborn students entering or exiting. Pureblood wizard or witches found themselves prohibited from entering the Muggle world. St. Mungo's released preliminary study results on the decrease of magical birth rates and sharp increases in squib births. Ministry sent Medi-witches entered the Muggle World to study techniques to be used to increase fertility in the general magical community. Ministry sponsored Potions Masters and Charms Masters were dispatched to the European Magical Communities, seeking a magical means to stem the increasing rates of infertility suffered in Britain only to discover their way barred by the foreign governments.

A special session of the newly elected British Wizengamot convened at the end of the second year following the Dark Lord's defeat. With the dawn of the third anniversary of the Light's victory, the British magical government had passed the beginning's of the Marriage Law. Marriages between Pureblood wizard and witches that had shown fruitful, were dissolved and re-married to another proven partner. Those unions that had yet to produce offspring were dissolved as well; the parties involved imprisoned in St. Mungo's and forced into extensive fertility trials. The wizard hospital released a new study at the end of the third year, showing a sharp increase of Squib birth rates and a a barely noticeable slight increase in the birth rate through out magical Britain.

The fourth anniversary of the fall of Voldemort dawned with new laws passing as an increase of fatal domestic situations created as a result of the original laws already in place. Halfbloods with their Muggle parent already residing within the Wizarding Britain, discovered themselves and their families imprisoned in Magical Britannia - those who's families resided in the Muggle realm were systematically rounded up and shepherded back into the magical community.

A hand fell lightly on the Headmistress' shoulder, startling her out of the past. "Dear Goddess!"

"So sorry, Headmistress, but the Great Hall is nearly empty and it is getting rather late. Perhaps an escort to your chambers?"

"Professors _cannot_ earn house points, young man."

"I'm aware of the school rules, Headmistress. But it would be amiss of me to not ensure that those entrusted to my care ran against anything foul under my watch, my father would ground me and I really wouldn't want to miss a trip into Hogsmeade."

Leaning on the younger wizard, "grounded? Is that the best you can come up with?" McGonagall snorted as the left the Great Hall, "really. You were able to invent some much more _creative_ excuses during your student years young man."

"Ah, that explains my poor ones now. Obviously I used up my allotment, shame on me for being so free with them.'

"What are you really up to?"

"Watching over those entrusted into my care, as I said."

"I don't recall Head of House duties, nor normal professor duties, including the welfare of Hogwarts' staff." The Headmistress said as she eyed the platnium blonde wizard walking next to her. "Spill, young man."

"I am simply following directives, Professor."

"_Who's_ directives? I cannot see either your father nor your mother caring enough to instruct you to assist their old professor around the castle." Her hazel eyes narrowed as she forced them to stop mid-step.

"My godfather's of course." The wizard's lips curled slightly into an all to familiar smirk.

"_Who_ is your godfather?"

"Well, if he didn't tell you, than I shan't either."

"Mr. Malfloy, either tell me or I'll..."

"Remove house points? Ah, but than I haven't been a Hogwarts' student in over three years and you yourself just told me that professors cannot earn house points. So it stands to reason that they cannot _lose_ house points either." Gently tugging on her arm, "now up to bed with you professor. Don't make me summon Metsie, she's worse than a house full of den mothers." As they walked along the corridor leading to the Headmistress' private chambers, Draco Malfloy shuddered at the thought of the house elf in "nanny mode".

"You damnable Slytherins and your secrets! If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that you were in fact Severus' child in disguise."

'Thank you, Headmistress. To be thought the child of one of the greatest Slytherins of all time, is truly a high honor. Though my family is related to the Princes', at least on my father's side. A distant connection at best, but ..."

"A connection worth noting _and_ exploiting." She smiled tightly, "Severus was _very_ proud of his house. A fact that he made sure every staff members was fully aware _and_ educated on the virtues of being a Slytherin."

"Professor Snape's honor is recorded in the history books through out our world. The large influx of students that each year brings is testament to glory that Slytherin House now enjoys in the world _outside _of Hogwarts' walls." Malfloy hedged as he escorted the older witch to her door.

"You're not doing to bad yourself, Draco. You are the second youngest Head of House in Hogwarts' history - the first was Severus. That speaks highly of you, young man."

"Only because Professor Slughorn stayed on as Head until he felt that I was ready to assume the duties."

"Which is a _lot_ more than he did for Severus, I can tell you. His first year teaching _and_ as House Head, I thought that by term's end he would have been committed to St. Mungo's. Somehow he persevered." Turning to look the younger wizard in the eye, "you'll do well to follow his example."

"I know Professor, I owe him more than I can repay. If being guardian to his Snakes and watching over the castle helps to pay even a little, I'll be happy." _What would you say, what would you do if you knew?_

"Pleasant dreams, young Malfloy." The Headmistress said she slipped inside her chambers.

Bowing to the portrait, "peaceful dreams Professor." Turning on his heel, the Slytherin retraced his footsteps along the corridor. Once around the corner from the Headmistress' chambers, "Metsie."

As the last syllable dropped from the wizard's mouth, the house elf appeared before him. "Headmistress retired for the night?"

"Indeed, but you should stay close by just in case she has a bad night." Malfloy suggested as he gratefully took the headache potion the elf held out to him. "Have you received any further instruction?"

"No, Master Draco. But the others talk to Metsie, it is to begin soon." The house elf wrung her hands and stared earnestly at the blonde wizard.

"As far as I know the plans have not been changed." Malfloy glanced up and down the corridor before doing the same with the one had had just exited. "Be vigilante and keep your ears open."

"Metsie a good elf," she said with a hint of pride. The house elf bobbed her head before disappearing, back to where ever she was.

Rubbing his forehead, Draco Malfloy continued down the hallway that would lead to the turnoff for the Slytherin Dungeons. Years of obsessive planning was already bearing fruit, yet the climax seemed further and further away. He knew that his master was right to wait and bid his time, like a snake coiled in the shadows. The defeat of the pompous Voldemort had been perfectly orchestrated, the dark order dancing perfectly to his master's tune. Slytherin House's honor may no longer be torn into rags, but it was far from the height that it would achieve soon enough.

His booted feet crossed the stone floor of the dungeon corridor soundlessly as the basilisk guardian bowed it's granite head before the door swung open. The blonde Head of House slipped inside, his silver eyes sweeping the common room. Nodding to himself when he found it devoid of students, he crept softly into the boys' dorm. Just as his former Head had done for him and countless others before, Malfloy crept through the rooms as silent as any predator. _Sleep the night and gather the knowledge in the day, children. For in-between day and night the great serpent, the Basilisk himself, shall rise from the ashes. We will stand at his mighty side and the hands of Time itself shall bow, turn back and yield to him._ Tucking a straw lock of hair back behind a third year's ear before slipping out of the girls' dorm, "rest children."

Slipping out of the Slytherin dormitories, the wizard hurried to his own chambers. _I can feel the hum of Time as it shivers, it knows that a new dawn is nearing. _

_A/N_: _**A bonus update! Wow, I managed to finish this one rather quickly thanks in large to my muse who kept singing! So this chapter, things are starting to look a bit darker...**_

_**I'm still looking for a beta reader...**_

_Her Royal Goddess : thank you for the well wishes._

_Teela's Snakestaff : Thanks for the tip_

_Heliata : Thanks for giving it a read...Severus and Harry huh?...They're around ...somewhere...I think_


	6. Chapter 5

_**Ministry of Magic passes Dangerous Creatures Act**_

_**Unanimous vote severs civil rights of non-humans**_

_Amelia Hornes_

_ Daily Prophet_

_In a startling move that few could have predicted; the Ministry of Magic (which governs the areas known as England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland) has amended the laws regarding the movement, employment and residency of Dark Creatures. The bill, which has just been entered into the books midnight the previous, restricts these half-humans even further than before the war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ever did. In addition to further curtailing the rights of these poor unfortunates, the Dangerous Creatures List has been expanded to include the following:_

_Merfolk_

_Satyrs_

_Nymphs_

_Sprites_

_Centaurs_

_Hinds_

_Dryads_

_Veela_

_Metamorphs_

_This is in addition to the previous list containing the following:_

_Werewolves_

_Vampires_

_Gargoyles_

_Giants_

_Leprechaun_

_Djin_

_Orges_

_Trolls_

_Harpies_

_Inferi_

_Giving aid to any of these perceived dangerous creatures can result in criminal charges being brought. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement asks that if you see any of these creatures or know of any known haunts please contact the Aurors' field office located in **every** large magical city._

_**MoM Ratifies Dark Ages Bill**_

_**Dark creatures illegalized!**_

_Charity Hammerstal_

_The Quibbler_

_In a move that is a clear setback for Dark Creature rights advocates such as Shelly Montague, 34 of _Gloucester Scotland. At age 3, Ms. Montague was attacked by a werewolf during a summer holiday in Normandy, France with her family. "It's inhuman, just because we [werewolves] are forced to change during the full moons doesn't make us any less _**human**__ than anyone else in Britain. It's not like we chose to be bitten." Though there are few and fewer Potions Masters equal to the task of brewing the Wolfsbane Potion, invented by Damocles Belby circa 1985. _

_When brewed correctly and consumed faithfully, those infected with the Werewolf virus retain their human mind during the full moon. It is only in the absence of the potion that the werewolf, when changed, is a blundering killing machine. It is this instinctual reaction which has landed werewolves on the Dangerous Creatures list eight hundred years ago. Through common precautions (staying indoors on the nights of the full moon) and imprisoning a family member in a secured location which has always kept the numbers of victims living with this infliction to manageable numbers._

_The Ministry of Magic for Britain has taken this one step further with it's unprecedented bill. Looking closely at sub-paragraph D, section 3 of the revised Dark Creatures Act aka Dangerous Creatures Act - "**...wherein those bitten or otherwise infected with the Lycan Virus - known commonly as Werewolf - shall register upon infection with the Department of Magical Creatures. Upon registration, said werewolf shall be transported to St. Mungo's for sterilization treatment and henceforth be returned to the Ministry for identification purposes."**_

_When asked for a statement, the Head of the Department of Magical Creatures declined comment. The rest of the Magical World seems to have lost what little common sense they were born with as countries around the globe are taking similar steps. In Romania, home of the self-proclaimed (and un-refuted) Prince of Vampires; Vlad Tepes was taken from his home and forcibly dragged into the Romanian Ministry. Count Dracula was reportedly de-fanged, branded with silver and imprisoned by their magical law enforcement. _

_Wizards and witches of Britain, who will be next? Is this truly the world for which we have fought, bleed for? Least we forget that in **The Final Battle**, amongst the dead were over a dozen werewolves who fought **against** He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named - amongst their number was former Hogwarts' Defense Against The Dark Arts instructor and Gryffindor alumni Remus J. Lupin._

_**Ministry Curse Strikes Again!**_

_**Minster found dead, Aurors suspect suicide**_

_Rudolph T. Winnebag, 41, was found early this morning in his offices in London by his assistant. Mr. Winnebag, the current minister is the second in nearly five years. Under his tenure, the Minstry has passed numerous legistlative acts, some of the better known:_

_**Muggle Preservation Act**_

_**Magical Reproduction Enactment **(Marriage Law)_

_**Spousal Protection Act**_

_**Magical Conservation Act**_

_Funeral services will be held at his family's estate in Devonshire. Mavis Prince, last of the living Prince Family, will be sworn in at twelve in the lobby of the Ministry building._

Draco folded the morning papers and leaned back in the armchair. Taking a sip from his mug, the blonde wizard smirked.

_A/N:_** The muse is singing faster than I can type! Short chapter I know, but chapter 6 is already being written. I don't believe in sitting on a chapter for "a few days". So when the muse sings and I can get more than one chapter done in 24 hrs, than I'll post more than one. As always, reviews are the stuff authors live for, lol.**

atomicmom : toast is good...Draco has a "likable"charm cast on him for this fic

Heliata : Now telling when Severus is going to pop-up, that would ruin the surprise

Her Royal Highness : Hmm...I just might be able to grant that wish...


	7. Chapter 6

"Minerva, have you seen the _Prophet_?"

Rubbing her tired eyes, "yes."

"Well what are we going to do?"

"Nothing, Hermione."

"_Nothing!"_ The Medi-witch repeated numbly, "but surely..."

"There is _nothing_ that we can do. Albus' influence was used up during the trials and his _attempt_ to find out Severus' fate. He has as much influence at the Ministry as a flobberworm's. None of my high placed friends in the Ministry are speaking with me anymore and the few that I still have, refuse to discuss government proceedings with me. Poor Arthur can barely manage to keep his post in Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells Protective Objects. Kingsley has been re-posted to the Auror archives." Taking a deep breath, "really Hermione, you were there through the trials. I don't know _how_ I managed to keep my post - I cannot think of a single Order member that walked away unscathed. _Well,_ maybe the dead ones."

"Have you even seen the new legislation on Dark Creatures? Those dunderheads have even classified Merfolk as dark and dangerous! Mark my words Minerva, we're heading towards either a Holocaust _or_ a revolution!' The Medi-witch thundered as she swept from the room.

Rubbing her temples, "Metsie!"

"Headmistress McGonagall is wanting Metsie?" The house elf asked as she popped in front of the witch.

"Yes, a headache potion." Burying her head in her hands, "something to stop the herd of hippogriffs from stampeding!"

The house elf bowed and snapped her fingers, "is Mistress McGonagall wanting anything else?"

"My kingdom and then some for some silence, somewhere far away from all this madness." Glancing up at the quizzed house elf, "but I'm sure that is beyond the abilities of a house elf. So no, Metsie."

Metsie cocked her head and squinted at the witch. _Master __**did**__ say that Metsie was to be a good house elf and make sure that those he placed in Metsie's care were __**well cared**__ for._ Snapping her fingers, the house elf disappeared.

The Headmistress swallowed the bitter potion before resting her head on her arms. _I just want the pounding to stop for two minutes - two minutes where I have some peace. _Her fingers ghosted over her temples, gently rubbing the fast tempo in her head away. "Tsk, tsk. You haven't been taking very good care of yourself, 'Nerva." Gasping, McGonagall half jumped from her chair, half turned in surprise. Her mouth hung open, unable to form the words tittering on the edge of her tongue as she stared in shock at the figure leaning against the small table behind the Headmistress' desk. "But what can one really expect from a _Gryffindor_?"

Licking her lips, she tried to coax her voice into working. "It's not easy, I know, being School Head. Everyone's looking to you for the answers; answers you don't always have to give." Sighing, "under normal circumstances Hogwarts' isn't easy to run. You have well over a thousand children - pureblood, half-blood and not to mention the Muggleborns. Personally, I found the Muggleborns the most difficult. You need to hold their hands practically every step of the way their first year in school."

"_Severus_," McGonagall whispered.

"'Nerva, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"By the Gods, Severus, you're alive."

"Alive? Thought that you were conversing with a spector?" His lips quirked upwards at the corners.

Holding her hand to her chest, "what game are you playing? You're standing there, not five from me. You're as flesh and blood as I am, Severus. What has addled your brain? You never played games like this! Come to think of it, you _never_ played games." Reaching out she slapped a black clad arm, "see."

Laughing, "come now 'Nerva! I had you going there for a minute!"

"Not funny at all, _young man_!" The older witch gripped as she leaned back in her chair.

"I thought it was," a black shoulder shrugged.

"Severus, _where_ have you been?" The Headmistress asked as she summoned a house elf.

"How is Metsie helping, Mistress?" The house elf bowed, peeking up at the Lioness from between her ears.

"Tea, for two." The house elf bobbed her head before disappearing. "now explain yourself."

"What's there to explain?" A tea service for two popped onto the Headmistress' desk. Turning, the witch poured two cups, handing one to the dour man standing before her.

"_What's there to explain_? Severus, no one has seen you in _five years_! We've had absolutely no word on you, whether you were _dead or alive_!" Furious with the younger wizard, McGonagall sloshed her tea over the carpet without noticing. "We were stuck in _limbo_, Severus. We didn't know if we should mourn your death or worry for your health!"

"Limbo," a dark eyebrow rose. "Yes, I can see how that can be disconcerting. No hope for it though."

Stuttering, "_no hope for it?_ Severus, what _has_ happened to _you_? You were cold, but not _frozen_!"

"Nothing has happened, 'Nerva. I am as I have always been."

"You're speaking in riddles!"

"Oh, now I'm some bloody sphinx! Pray tell, _oh Goddess of Wisdom_, when did this miraculous transformation occur?" A rebellious lock of raven black hair slipped from it's place behind his ear.

"I don't wish to quarrel with you, Severus." Sighing, the Headmistress felt every year her age. "Will you not sit down? Must you tower like some over grown bat?"

His thin lips curled slightly upwards in a parody of a smile. "Like that one ever gets old."

"Severus, you could try the patience of a saint and the gods know that I am not one." Huffing in exasperation, "nor am I am Albus Dumbledore."

"And gods smile down from above, bestowing upon us mere mortals their blessings."

"I'm running on near empty, Severus." Refilling her tea cup, "back to the subject at hand."

"What subject?"

"Don't try that innocent act on me, Severus Tobias Snape! It didn't work for you as a student, it certainly won't work for you now. Where have you been for the last five years?" Standing abruptly, the older witch smacked a black clad shoulder soundly. "Did you forget how to owl?"

"Back, Dragon wench!" He cocked his head and closed his eyes before swearing softly. "Listen 'Nerva." Holding his hand up to stall her as she opened her mouth to issue a retort, "_listen_! There's not much time left. As much as I have enjoyed this _interlude_, you need to hear me out." Placing his finger across her lips, "_without_ interruption! If you think things are dark now, you have no idea just _how_ dark our world is about to become. Things have been set into motion that are beyond the petty disputes being battled out inside the Ministry - inside our communities." Raking his hand through his hair, "father will turn on son. Families will be turned asunder. Our world will _burn_ before things can be set right again."

Turning from his old teacher, he shuddered. "Regardless of what happens outside these walls, Hogwarts' _must_ stand! The school, the castle itself, must remain a beacon in the dark times that are coming. Voldemort was a bogeyman, a means to an end. It started with his rise, but it's not over yet. Dawn is just a long sleep away and so is the hope for our world." Onyx eyes turned to the Headmistress, "have you read the papers?" At the Gryffindor's nod, "than you know what I have said is true." He gripped the tea cup hard enough for it to shatter in his hand. "Trust the Slytherins, 'Nerva. The Snakes will show you the way, when all hope is lost, they will show you to the light."

"Severus, you're not making sense!"

"Trust me 'Nerva, I'd never let you be harmed."

"I know, Severus." McGonagall smiled sadly up at her former pupil, "I remember." She chuckled lightly, "yes my dear friend. I _knew_ that it was you that killed Darius Ledper with Elton Prince's scimitar. You saved my life that day and numerous others, only to be _rewarded_ with Mr. Longbottom's curse. Did they treat you for the Crusciatus before dumping you in a cell?"

"I _never saw_ the inside of a cell, 'Nerva. On that account, I can put your mind at ease." Clasping her hands in his, "go to the Slytherins. Keep them close to you, 'Nerva." Straightening to his full height, "stand your ground and guard your Pride. When night falls, keep the light shinning." His head jerked once again towards the office door, "remember Rowena Ravenclaw's famous last words to Helga Huffelpuff?"

McGongall squinted her eyes in puzzlement, "I-I don't understand."

"_Gryffindors rush in where Slytherins fear to tred_."

"Severus, I ..." The Headmistress jumped in her chair as someone knocked on her office door. "Just a moment, Severus." Gathering herself, she walked quickly to her door. "Yes?"

"You missed lunch, Minerva."

"You're too young to mother me, Hermione, dear." The older witch bristled, "besides there's been an unexpected development."

"Oh? Like you no longer need to eat like us mere mortals?" The Medi-witch inquired as her hands found their way to her hips.

"You don't wear sarcasm well, child." McGonagall lightly scolded, "Severus is alive."

"Alive? Where is he? Is Professor Snape alright?"

"He's right here," the older witch archly responded. Doing her best to hid the silly grin that threatened to burst onto her face, the former Transfigurations Mistress stepped back and gestured to the area behind her desk.

Brushing past her employer, "Professor Snape! Thank goodness you're alive, we all thought the worst when we couldn't ..." Pivoting hard on her heel, "there's no here but you and I."

"_He's here_, Hermione." Brushing past the younger witch, "we just had tea and talked a bit." Frowning, the older Gryffindor pushed past her former student. "Severus?" Shaking her head, she whipped out her wand and began to cast charm nullifiers around her office. "Blast that infuriating man!" Turning to glare at a concerned looking Medi-witch, "I'm telling you _he_ was here not two seconds ago!"

Collapsing in the vacant armchair in front of the desk, Granger sighed as she shook her head. "That's the final straw, Minerva. I'm sorry, but I _need_ to send a report to the Board. You _need_ a vacation, desperately or I fear that we will lose you too."

"I'm not losing my mind, Hermione."

"No, no one is saying that. You're just overworked and overstressed. It happens to all of us, at times - even at the best of times. Gods know that the last five years have not been easy ones _or_ normal for that matter."

"I _swear_ Severus was here just moments ago."

"Perhaps, you're feeling guilty for not being able to help him five years ago. I know that I wish that I could use a Time-Turner, go back and spirit Professor Snape away before the aurors arrived to cart everyone off."

"Child, you were _lucky_ that the Ministry didn't go after you and your friends, like they did the rest of us."

"Only because we were underage at the time, too young to _know_ what were doing!" The Medi-witch scoffed, "too _young_ to understand vigilante acts!" Straightening her robes, "the aurors acted like we were one step up from house elves."

"_House elves!_" The Headmistress leapt her feet, startling her companion. "Metsie!" The house elf in question snapped instantly into view at the witch's feet. "Did you or did you not just provide tea to these chambers?"

The house elf bobbed her head, "Metsie did."

"And how many cups did you bring?" The Medi-witch interjected before her mentor could continue.

"Metsie brought one cup and one kettle."

"_What!" _McGonagall cried in surprise. "You brought _two_, one for myself and Professor Snape." The house elf cringed, wringing her hands.

"Minerva, please." Turning back to the elf, "was there _anyone_ else in the office when the tea was sent for and/or brought the tea?" The crying elf shook her head as she edged away from a furious looking witch. "Just two more questions, Metsie. Are there any other house elves serving the Headmistress in her office or her personal chambers?"

"No, I's personal elf to Hogwarts' Mistress."

"How has she been sleeping?"

"Very little, she be talking in her sleep when she does." The elf cringed away from the furious School Head. "I's taking the empty sleeping bottles away like a good house elf."

"You _lying, sniveling little ..."_

"Minerva!" Granger whirled on her mentor, "_silence_!"

"Rotten little liar!" The former Gryffindor Head snarled from behind the Medi-witch.

"_Minerva!"_

"Metsie _good_ elf! Chambers cleaned always! Empty sleep bottles disposed of always."

"Surely Hermione, you can see the elf is fabricating all of this!"

"Metsie, can you bring one of these "sleep bottles" that you have been removing from the Headmistress' chambers?" The elf nodded and snapped her fingers. "Thank you," Ms. Granger kindly said as she accepted the offered empty vial. Turning the bottle over, she recognized the scrawled handwriting on the label from five years of seeing it grace her potion's work. "D_reamless Sleep_? Minerva McGonagall, march your behind over to the Infirmary this instant!"

"W-What?"

"I need to run some tests to determine just _how _addicted you've become."

"Now Herm-"

"No. I am invoking my authority as Medical Head of Hogwarts', which supersedes even yours." Grasping the older woman's elbow, "let's not make a scene." Without waiting for a response, the Medi-witch marched her patient from the Headmistress' offices down the spiral staircase.

"This is _ridiculous_! I'm no more addicted to a sleeping potion than you are, Hermione." The outraged witch sputtered, "the elf is lying."

"House elves by definition are _not capable_ of betraying their "masters," Minerva. You know this. As the Head of Hogwarts' you are by default Metsie's mistress."

"Hermione..."

"_Enough_! If you are indeed innocent _and_ the house elf is lying, a few tests will prove where the cards fall."

"Very well. I will have your oath that once this is done, you will apologise."

"On my magic, I do so hereby swear."

Nodding her head, the Headmistress wrenched her arm free of the younger witch. Straightening her robes, she quietly walked alongside the school's medi-witch. _That wretched creature is going __**rue**__ the day that she was spawned when I get done. The nerve of this cub, pulling rank on __**me**__!_ The deep vein of righteous indignation that ran through every Gryffindor for a thousand years hummed deep with the Alpha Lioness.

The witches walked in silence through the castle until they reached the Medi-witch's domain; the Infirmary. "Have a seat while I prepare the correct potions and get the test strips." Silent fury shined in McGonagall's eyes as she turned her back on the younger woman and perched on the edge of the closest bed. Ms. Granger shook her head at the stubborn tilt of the other woman's shoulders as she disappeared into the supply closet. She grunted as she stretched her body, raising herself up on her tip-toes to reach the highest shelf. Her back tinged as her muscles strained beyond their tolerance as her fingers barely brushed the brown bottle. Silently berating herself, she waved her wand at the offensive vial. _Silly girl, why didn't you think of using magic in the first place to just summon it to you __**before**__ hurting yourself?_

Silently berating herself, Ms. Granger made her way back to her reluctant patient. Waving her wand, she summoned a bedside hospital tray. Placing the brown vial on the tray top, she summoned a medium sized Maple wood box. Shaking her head, she disregarded the upset witch sitting next to her as she called a pearl bowl to her. Tapping the bowl with the tip of her wand, the Medi-witch filled the shimmering alabaster container with fresh water. Gently tipping a few drops into the clear liquid. "Minerva, I need a drop of your blood to run the tests." Grunting, the older witch extended her hand. Drawing a single drop, Ms. Granger quickly closed the small wound as the blood hit the water. Opening the wooden box, she withdrew a single Oak stick. Dropping the testing stick into bowl, "we'll need to wait a few minutes for the results. While we wait, do you mind..."

The Infirmary door opened, "Headmistress!"

"_Walk_, Mister Stupank!"

"Sorry Ms. Granger." The auburn haired wizard gulped, "Professor Futz says for Headmistress McGonagall to come down to the lake."

"The Headmistress is currently unavailable. Please relay this to your professor." Ms. Granger informed the younger Gryffindor.

"But Ms. Granger, aurors are arresting Hagrid!"

_A/N:** A bit longer than the last chapter. I hope that you enjoyed this one.**_


	8. Chapter 7

"_Release him_!" The Headmistress roared as they approached the lake. "You have no right to arrest him!"

"Begging your pardon, Professor, but we have a warrant." The ginger haired auror shrugged helplessly. "I don't agree, but I'm suppose to bring in one Rubeus Hagrid."

"Rubbish, Weasley." McGongall shrilled, "Hagrid hasn't committed any crimes."

"Ron, Minerva's right. _You know_ Hagrid, he isn't a criminal." Ms. Granger argued as her eyes flashed.

"The Head of the Department of Magical Creatures signed _this _warrant." As he spoke, the youngest Weasley wizard retrieved a scroll from within his robe. "My oath binds me to the orders of the Ministry, ladies. I don't know why we're suppose to bring him in, but I know that we will."

"This isn't right, Ron." The Medi-witch said as she shook her head.

"I _know_ 'Mione, but I have my orders."

"Have you considered disobeying orders, instead of blindly following what everyone around you says?"

"Disobeying orders is what gets _good_ aurors killed." Glancing sideways at his old housemate, "I cannot believe _you_ of all people are suggesting that I break the rules." Shaking his head, "I guess what they say about people and war is true."

"You're right, _Ronald_. The _Ron_ I went to Hogwarts' with would have tossed these asinine orders out with the rubbish instead of assaulting one of his friends." Ms. Granger took a deep, fortifying breath before she continued. "What happened to you, Ron? Whatever happened to Gryffindor loyalty? _Us_ against _them_?"

"I fought in a war that nearly destroyed my world; the world _my kids_ would one day inherit. I went from being a _child _to being responsible for taking another wizard's life, taking away someone's father." Straightening, "I _won't_ allow another Voldemort to ruin my kids' childhoods. I won't see another Harry Potter fight for his life as a _baby_ or as an eleven year old who's biggest fear should be detentions." Shoving the scroll into the Headmistress' hands, "I won't allow another generation to be blighted by the Dark!" Raking his fingers through his ginger hair, "I won't just stand by and let someone else's family be ripped apart. Losing Fred during the _Battle_, defending the secret entrances, changed _everything_." The young auror's nose nearly brushed the bushy-haired Medi-witch's, "_after_ Fred's wake; I vowed to make it my personal mission to ensure that dark wizards didn't rise that far. That they couldn't hurt us again, 'Moine." Turning back to the other aurors, Ronald Weasley walked stiffly away from the witches.

"Oh, _Ron_." Ms. Granger whispered brokenly as she watched her childhood friend walkaway from them.

"The war has taken it's toll on all of us dear. Don't fault Mr. Weasley for wanting what he's wanting." The stern witch said as she slipped the scroll into her robes. "I must see if I can speak with Rubeus before they sweep him off to the Ministry." The older witch grasped the younger one's shoulder briefly, before following in her former student's wake. "Auror Weasley," Hogwarts' Head called to the slim back. "A moment of your time, if you will."

Sighing, "Professor I can't disregard a warrant."

"I understand. No, what I would like is a moment of time to speak with Hogwarts' Groundskeeper."

"Very well, but a moment is all you're going to get." Shrugging under the reproachful glare of his former Head, "Auror Metcalf has already activated the delayed portkey."

Nodding stiffly, "I see." Brushing past the resigned wizard, "Rubeus."

"Professor McGonagall, I don't understand." The half-giant sobbed into his hankerchief, "I ain't done nothing wrong!"

"I know, Hagrid, I know." Rubbing the Care of Magical Creatures professor's arm, "I'll contact Albus and see about getting you some legal counsel. In the meanwhile, don't say a word to anyone."

"Dumbledore, a _great_ man."

"Indeed, old friend." Staring up into his fearful eyes, "we will _fight_ this. Remember, the Sorting Hat put you into Gryffindor for a reason. We'll take this straight up to the new Minister if we have to."

"Thank you, Professor." Whirling on the gathered aurors, "I fully expect that _Professor_ Rubeus Hagrid _will_ be treated with _all_ the respect and courtesy due a Hogwarts' professor." Hazel eyes hardened, "_some of us_ have not forgotten how professors of this institute of higher learning have been treated in the past whilst in the _gentle_ hands of the Aurors."

Auror Weasley's face tinged a light red, "my word."

Satisfied momentarily, the Lioness gracefully turned her back on the group and returned to the Medi-witch's side. "Rubeus will be okay now." Rubbing her hands together briskly, "however we don't have a moment to lose." The Headmistress pivoted and stalked back towards the castle with her younger colleague on her heels. "While I am speaking with Albus, please summon the rest of the staff? Have them gather in the Staff Room, if you would be so kind."

"Of course, Minerva." The witches split up in the Entrance Hall as the Headmistress hurried to her office and the Medi-witch hurried to round-up the staff members; shepherding them into the cramped staff room. Neither noticed the shadow that detached itself from the wall and stepped into the light provided by the torches.

"Professor Malfoy is wanting Metsie?" The house elf squeaked as she appeared in the Entrance Hall at the wizard's feet.

"Indeed," the blonde's eyebrow lifted slightly. "Is everything set?"

"Metsie followed instructions."

"Then I shall make my way to the Staff Lounge and await the news of this latest development." Turning back to the elf, "perhaps you should have another attend the Headmistress until all of this is over."

"Master said-"

"Yes, I am well aware of what the Master said. It would make things a great deal easier for my _esteemed colleagues_ to turn to me, if you would do this."

"As Master Professor Draco says." Metsie bowed and disappeared.

Straightening his teaching robes, the Head of Slytherin strolled down the hallway. _Gods, I can feel it - it's so close! _He nodded absently to the Bloody Baron as he rounded the corner and began to climb the stairs. _I wish I was like Him, the patience of a bloody __**statue**__. The anticipation is killing me, I don't know if I can hold out. _Stepping into the Staff Room, _I hope that I don't blow this. Even if he's fond of me, doesn't mean that he won't kill me if I slip up. _Taking a seat in the corner, under the cover of shadows, he brooded. _Am I Slytherin enough? _Crossing his arms, he slumped down in his chair as a few of the staff filed in.

"What in the world is going on?"

"No clue, that bossy Medi-witch wouldn't say a word to me."

"Don't fret, Freja, she's a power hunger one."

"You don't have to tell _me_ that, Helena. The only reason she wasn't sorted into Slytherin was because she's a mudblood."

"What in the world was the Headmistress thinking in hiring her?" Helena asked as she secured her favorite seat next to the empty fireplace.

Sitting next to the Astronomy professor, "I heard that the Ministry placed her here as a mole." Twittering, "watch your step. Who know's when the little lioness will grow claws."

"Really, Freja, you're _such_ a gossip." Both women cackled, before summoning a cup of tea from the waiting serving board. "Seriously, I would _love_ to be around when the little Know-It-All is taken down a peg or two."

"It's truly a shame that the Dark Lord wasn't able to purify our world a bit more before that awful _boy_ murdered him." The Charms Mistress sighed, "now the Ministry is bowing and scraping to those vermin! Punishing honest to goodness, decent _Pureblood_ families!"

"Yes, it's quite a shame Freja. How is your sister taking her impending marriage?"

"Helena, the poor girl is beside herself! To think that the Ministry is interfering with honest and good Pureblood marriages. She was happy with her match; Devon Pennyfeather was a _good_ man." Fanning herself, "their two little small ones stayed with Devon when the Ministry forced poor Emmaline to marry that brute of a man Sinclair Nott. She was lucky to conceive early and despite his treatment of her, survived to be auctioned off as a brood mare _again_." Sipping her cooling tea, "Augustus Rowle."

"Rowle, that's a name I haven't heard spoken in quite some time." The Astronomy professor pursed her lips thoughtfully, "is he by chance a relation of Thorfinn Rowle's?"

"A second cousin I believe, Helena." Refilling her tea cup, "luckily Augustus' has inherited the estate."

Nodding sagely, "with luck he will bring the Rowle family _back_ into glory under the _new_ administration." Snatching a biscuit from the side table, "though I am most disappointed with the way things are going now."

Gasping in alarm, "mind your tongue! Hogwarts' walls have _always_ had eyes and ears. It is one thing, you silly Huffelpuff, to criticize the school's administration - but are you unable to comprehend what can happen if certain ears relate unfavorable tidbits to the Ministry?" Setting down her shaking tea cup, "just look at those who were exiled! Stripped of all magic and _forced_ to live like Muggles!" Glancing wearily around the deserted staff room, the Charms Mistress failed to notice the blonde wizard hidden in the shadows. In a soft, low voice, she continued. "They say that no one has seen Albert Runcorn since the aurors came for him last July." Leaning closer to her companion, "_no one_ is ever seen after the aurors take you away. At least with the Death Eaters there was a body to be found afterwards."

Waving her friend's concern off, "only because the You-Know-Who was a bloody show off! Seriously, Freja, outside of a few legislation changes - nothing new has happened since the end of the war." Holding a hand to stifle the outrage on her fellow teacher's tongue, "true I dislike that we, Pureblood witches, have become brood mares. Our world is further severing ties with the Muggles; good riddance if you ask me. But I firmly believe that our population is willing to see the worst of the new and improved Ministry." Finishing the biscuit, "crime rate has hit an all time low. Why, it's practically unheard of these days! The poorest of the Pureblood families are rising in _both_ glory and wealth. Our children are starting to look to _purity_ of mind, body and _blood_ when in search of a partner. All in all, I think that I am going to like how the future is going to shape up."

Narrowing her eyes at the Astronomy instructor, "you know something and you're not telling me."

Shrugging indifferently, "I know just about as much as anyone else."

"Helena-"

"Afternoon, ladies."

"Charles," the witches jumped as the Deputy Headmaster strolled into the lounge.

"Any ideas as to what's going on?" The Defense Against Dark Arts professor asked as he took his usual seat.

"None, Ms. Granger wasn't able to tell us anything."

"Yes, our resident Medi-witch did seem a bit more frizzled than usual. I hope it is nothing too serious." As he spoke, he summoned a tea cup from the sideboard. "My concern though is for our Headmistress."

"Whatever do you mean, Charles?"

"My _dear_ Freja, you have not noticed that our esteemed Head is weighed down more than mentally? Can you not see that her spirit is troubled?"

"Well you would be too if you over saw _hundreds_ of students each year and made sure the staff members were paid."

"I meant no slight, Helena." Sweat beaded his brow as he faced off at the pair of Hufflepuffs. "Merely voicing a concern."

Bristling, "have you spoken with our resident medi-witch? Should not Ms. Granger exam and determine the wellbeing of our fearless Head?" The Head of Hufflepuff asked as she leaned forward.

Smothering a look of distaste, "I am sure that our resident _Mudblood_ will be looking in on Professor McGonagall shortly."

"Did drop a hint to the medi-witch to check up on McGonagall?"

"Didn't need to, seeing as she was already storming the Administration Tower."

"It sounds to me, that Charles here is still smarting after all this time." The Astronomy instructor confided to her friend.

"Helena?"

Smirking at the dark look from the Deputy Headmaster, "really Freja, where have you been? He asked Ms. Granger out a few months back."

"Oh, I see that he _finally_ screwed up his courage and stuck it to the sticking place. I take it, Helena, that things didn't go as smoothly as _Casanova_ would have liked?"

"You could say that, dear. She turned him down flat!"

The Mother Badger sniggered, "poor Charles! How wounded your pride must be to finally come across a witch that didn't fall salivating at your feet!"

"You needn't sound so _gleeful_, Professor Dillenger."

"Really, now who's a touch sensitive?" Professor Dillenger said as she tossed her hair out of her face. "You're as vain as nymph!"

"_Truce_ Helena Dillenger!" The Deputy Headmaster begged as squirmed in his chair, "call off Freja as well!"

"Of all the _audacity_! Like I'm some trained hippogriff!" The Hufflepuff squeaked, "_you_ would have been in Gryffindor!"

"Now my dear-"

"Afternoon everyone, I hope I'm not tardy."

"Nonsense, Regina!" The Charms Mistress chirped, "we were just having a friendly chat as we waited for the rest of the staff to join us."

"Is there by chance any of that delicious _Yeti's Rush_ left?" The Head of Ravenclaw asked as she peered at the side table.

"I don't see how you can drink that _swill," _the Deputy Headmaster sniffed.

"It's no more _swill_ than that bark that you drink!" The Herbology professor retorted as she poured herself a fresh cup. Wisely, the Defense instructor subsided into a quiet sulk as the three witches began to gossip amongst their number. One by one the remaining staff converged in the Staff Room, some brought papers to grade and others seized upon the unexpected opportunity to exchange the latest tidbit of information with each other.

_A/N: **I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, real life has eaten up a lot of my time. Between work and my father being released from the hospital and then transfered back to his home - it's been real hectic finding the time to sit down for more than a few minutes and write.**_

_**So in this chapter we are introduced to a few more of the "new" teaching staff, poor Hagrid (I really do NOT dislike him) was carted off to the Ministry, we've been introduced to the Heads of houses. Yes, **Yeti's Rush** is one of my all time favorite mint teas that is made/sold by a good friend in Real Life.**_

_**In addition, my muse has been punishing me - different scenes flashing through my mind on the job that would work for future chapters. So this one's been slow coming to me and I am SO happy that it's finally complete and I can now move on to Chapter 8!**_

_atomicmom: I honestly tried to save Hagrid - but my muse had other ideas. _

_Teelas' Snakestaff : Now see if I were to answer your questions, instead of being **evil**, I would give away a good portion of the plot and my muse would be **very** upset with me. As for the Weasleys'...well as you know Arthur has been mentioned and Ron's an Auror. Fred is still dead in accordance with **Deathly Hollows**. I am a horrible, horrible person - using some DH canon and altering what doesn't fit the mold. As for the Prince family tree - HP canon, Snape **is** the last of the family line._


	9. Chapter 8

Draco Malfoy quickly made his way across Hogwarts' grounds under the cloak of the old moon. Scotland in September was typically on the warmer side of things, yet the night brought a slight chill to the young wizard as he slipped silently into the Forbidden Forest. He felt a brief twinge as he crossed over the anti-apparition wards and vanished into the night. The Head of Slytherin disapparated on the deserted street outside the darken Leaky Cauldron and quickly summoned the Knight Bus to his aid.

The Potions instructor calmly leaned against the lamp post as he waited, his wand sheathed in the wrist holder. As he closed his eyes, his senses highetened and encompassed the area around him. To the casual observer, the young Slytherin was the picture of aristocratic ease. Behind his closed eyelids, the night's events replayed.

"_I apologize for dragging you all away from your last class of the day. However, I felt that it was imperative that you be updated immediately." Taking a deep breath, "Rubeus Hagrid has been taken into the Ministry of Magic on a warrant issued by the Department of Magical Creatures."_

"_**Hagrid**__?" The flying instructor leapt from his place, "the only thing that is __**remotely**__ dangerous about Hagrid is some of the creatures that he keeps." Tilting his head slightly, letting the long ginger hair smack the side of his face, "did a parent file a complaint? I know that it's early, just a few days into the new term and all, but ..."_

"_No Mr. Weasley. At best I can think that whatever charges that have been brought against our Keeper of keys is trumped up." The Headmistress rubbed her hands together._

"_And the worst, Minerva?" The Medi-witch leaned forward, her brown eyes vacant of any warmth._

"_That Hagrid's inherited genetics from his mother's side is being used against him."_

"_But the new Dangerous Creature's Act said 'giants' not half-giants!" Indignation, on behalf of her gentle souled friend, flashed in Ms. Granger's eyes._

"_If what you believe to be true, Professor, than perhaps it would be prudent to-"_

"_Sorry all for barging in like this, but I'm suppose to check in with the Headmistress," the raven haired wizard glanced at the piece of parchment. "Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and some of your students, the ones with blue and yellow stripes on the ties, said you were all in here." Swallowing, "I hope that I haven't arrived at a bad time?"_

"_I'm Minerva McGonagall __**and you are**__?"_

"_Stephen...uh...Storm," he nervously swiped the Stetson off his head_.

_Arching an eyebrow at the young wizard, __**he can't be more than eighteen years old or I'm a **_hag_. "And __**you**__ are here because...?"_

"_Oh! The Board of _Governors..._**your**__ Board of Governors that is to say..." The wizard pulled a hankerchief out of a pocket in his robes, "I'm the new Care of Magic Creatures professor." Gulping, he glanced around the shocked Staff Room. "Um, that fellow Mr. Kingsley __**stressed**__ the need for one and since I was visiting some friends..."_

_Holding up her hand, "wait a tick! Kingsley as in __**Kingsley Shacklebolt**__?"_

_Backing away from the enraged medi-witch, "black guy...bald with an earring in his ear?"_

"_**That son of a rat**__!____When I get my hands wrapped around that-" Whirling on her old mentor, "at least __**now**__ we know why he isn't returning our firecalls." _

"_Restrain yourself, Ms. Granger!" Turning back to the skittish wizard, "please continue."_

"_Well...I was visiting some friends here in Britain and met Mr. Shacklebolt?...We got to talking and one thing led to another. I mentioned that I grew up at the base of Mt. Shasta - Mt. Shasta City to be exact. Well one subject led to another, we ended up spending a good portion of the night discussing various magical creatures; the ones indegionous to the Redwood National Park to be exact. Anywho, the next thing I know is this Kingsley guy is practically shoving the application down my throat; all the while moaning about needing a new instructor here at your school." Shrugging, "you can imagine the pressure I was under when I went before your Board. And, well, here I am."_

"_Mr...Storm, is it?" At the sandy haired wizard's nod, _"_**when**__**exactly**__ did your interview take place?"_

"_Um, two-three days ago, Ma'am. They sure seemed mighty relieved that they had found someone."_

"_Those two-faced, greasy, flobberworms! Hagrid was __**just**__ arrested this afternoon and they were already planning on replacing him __**before **__there was even a need!" The Medi-witch's wand sparked as ranted. "Minerva," whirling around on her former Head. "If __**that's**__ not proof of a conspiracy, than I don't know what is!"_

"_Um, ladies...?" Swallowing as the collective eyes of the school's staff fell once more onto him, "it's been an __**exhausting**__ week for me and as it's a weekend..." Straightening,"if it's not too much of an inconvenience, I'd like to find my quarters and get some rest before Monday morning classes."_

"_Of course," the Headmistress summoned a house elf. "Escort Mr. Storm to the guest tower and a suitable room." Returning her attention to the confused Yankee, "Professor Hagrid was arrested just a few short hours ago. Until that point, he __**was**__ our Care of Magical Creatures instructor and until we can properly sort through this __**mess**__ - Hogwarts' welcomes you. Be that as it may, it isn't right to allow someone else into his quarters." Peering over the rim of her spectacles, "you understand of course."_

"_Of course," Storm bowed as he allowed the house elf to led him away._

Draco straightened as the triple-decker screeched to a stop in front of him, tapping the garbage can and sending it rolling into the deserted street. Stan Shunpike stepped out onto the curb in the wake of the doors. Brushing off his purple conductors uniform, "whatcha needing?"

"Ministry of Magic," the Potions professor snapped as he brushed past the other wizard and boarded. Sneering at the driver, he maneuvered through the beds full of sleeping occupants. Locating a seat on the second level, the blonde wizard pulled his cloak around him. While apparating to his destination would have been faster, using multiple methods of transportation helped to obscure his movements from unwanted attentions.

"_Silence!" The symphony of voices vabirated under the hard grey eyes of the wizard cloaked in the shadows. "What's done __**is**__ done-"_

"_How can you be so cold, Draco?" The medi-witch snapped, "Hagrid's been setup and you don't even care!"_

"_I never said that, vile woman. Arguing, name calling and finger pointing will not help anyone. If that is all you want to do to __**help**__," the Head of Slytherin frowned, "then I strongly advise you to return to your normal activities and leave this matter in the hands that are more than capable of getting to the bottom of the matter."_

"_What do you know about this, __**Ferret**__?"_

"_Same as anyone else, __**Buck-teeth**__!"_

"_**Children!"**__ McGonagall stepped between the quarrelsome duo, "honestly. In the name of all that is divine, can neither of you two act your age whilst in the same room?"_

"_**She**__ started it," the Malfoy heir said as he pointed a finger at the blushing witch._

"_**Did not!"**_

"_Both of you __**stop!" **__The Headmistress growled as she flicked her wand at the pair. "Blessed silence."_

The bus careened around a sharp corner before jerking to an abrupt stop. "Ministry of Magic!"

Shaking his head, the Slytherin quickly disembarked and hurried into the alleyway. Glancing around to check for anyone looking, he stepped inside a red phone booth. As the door unfolded, closing him inside, the ground beneath his feet gave way. _There has __**got**__ to be a less nauseous way to get into the cursed building.___Sliding down the curling pipeline, his thoughts carried him back towards the staff meeting.

"_Now that we are __**acting**__ like the adults that we are __**again**__," McGonagall glared briefly at the duo. "I have already contacted former Headmaster Dumbledore and he is searching for a suitable barrister. With luck, Professor Hagrid should be released within the next day or so." Glancing around at the silently assembled staff members, "in the meanwhile we present a __**united**__ front to the school and the rest of the world. Hogwarts' has seen darker times than this and we still stand." She paused as though listening to something or someone that only she could hear. "Earlier, I saw Professor Snape-"_

_"What?"_

"_Where?"_

"_Is he alright?"_

_Holding her hands up, "he __**appeared**__ to be fine."_

"_Appeared? Headmistress, with all due respect what do you mean?" The Head of Huffelpuff asked as she leaned forward, her blouse beneath her robes drooping._

_Squinting her eyes shut against the sight of the other witch's assets, "we spoke briefly in the Headmistress' office before he disappeared again." The medi-witch's eyes widened briefly before she flew out of the staff door and raced down the hallway. Raising her eyes slightly at the younger Gryffindor's antics, "from our brief conversation: it would appear that there is more going on that what we, the public, are currently aware of."_

"_Forgive me, Headmistress. But the picture of Professor Snape, being dragged from the grounds in between two aurors, was splashed all over the papers. No one has seen him, nor heard **of** him since than." Taking a deep breath, "now he's waltzing right into the school and **out** again without anyone else seeing or hearing him?"_

"_I understand your reservations, Professor Dillenger. However, we are discussing the **only** wizard to have successfully fooled Voldemort." McGonagall's voice pulsed with pride, "thus it is unwise to underestimate Slytherin cunning."_

_The Head of Slytherin suppressed a snort, his silver eyes laughing at the unfortunate Huffelpuff. He quietly absorbed the banter around him, memorizing the conversation for later entertainment when he joined with his brethren._

"_**Slytherin cunning!"** Freja Wormwood snorted into her tea, "more like he jumped ship at the last moment."_

"_**You dare?"** Hogwarts' mistress roared, "you weren't here the nights that he **dragged** himself into the castle. Nor were you here on those **memorable** occasions when he was lucky enough not to splinch himself and was carried like a broken rag doll by Hagrid into the castle." Slicing the empty air before her with her hand, "we won't even begin to delve into the days and weeks that he was missing - missing and we all feared that he was dead!" Jabbing her finger into the Huffelpuff's generous chest, "where were you when he was laying in a puddle of **his** blood and body fluids? Stinking to high heaven just because the sadistic bastard was **bored**? Who's skirt were you hiding under when time after time he **shamed** himself, crawling in the filth for the tiniest scraps of information: hoping that he could save a life or find the key to bring that **monster** to justice?"_

_The Head of Slytherin cautiously wrapped his arm around the enraged Lioness' middle, pulling her away from the pale witch._

His feet once more upon solid ground, "lumos." The tip of his wand glowed, illuminating the hall before him. Years of training his senses paid off as he made out the faint sound of voices ahead of him, deep within the fathomless depths of the darkness that stretch out beyond the range of his charm.

_After dragging the raging Headmistress from the staff room and securing her back in her chambers to cool off, the Potions instructor slowly made his way down the hallway. Brushing a rebellious lock of hair from his face, he worried his lip deep in thought._

"_Umph!" Instinctively, wrapped his arms around his assailant. Spinning them around with the momentum from the collision, he slammed the warm body against the the stone wall. "Who-"_

"_Geez, Malfoy!" Wincing at the sharp pain in her back, she gently rubbed the back of her head where it had connected with the stones as she pushed the wizard's wand away from her throat._

"_Oh, it's only you." The blonde wizard said, fighting the rise of red on his face. "You need to watch where you are going, instead of a book."_

"_And __**you**__ need to dig that Pureblood nose out of your arse!"_

"_Ouch!"_

"_Please, it takes __**much**__ more than that to penetrate that thick hide."_

"_I'll __**penetrate**__ something-"_

"_Don't go there, that's just not right." Pushing the wizard to the side, "I hope that you weren't harassing our headmistress?"_

"_Me?" Scoffing, "you wound me, Granger." Clutching his chest dramatically, he rested the back of his wrist over his forehead and moaned. "Whoa is me! Help! __**Help!**__ Someone cage the lioness!"_

"_Git!" Holding her hand over her mouth, she fought the urge to laugh. "You should have gone into theater." Shaking her head, "drama queen."_

_Stomping his foot in mock outrage, __**"I am **_not_**!**__ You take that back you big meanie!"_

_Her one-time-nemesis' antics overcame her self-control as she bent over, clutching her stomach as she laughed. The medi-witch leaned against the stone wall for support until she could regain control of herself. "Thanks, I needed that."_

"_A Slytherin is always happy to serve, M'Lady." Malfoy courtly bowed, "what's got your knickers in a twist?"_

"_Minerva."_

"_Ah, I see." Quirking an eyebrow, "and what has our stern matriarch done now?"_

"_She's addicted to sleep potions," Ms. Granger hugged herself as the last lingering bit of laughter fled. "Oh, Drake!"_

_Pulling her against him, the Malfoy heir wrapped her in his arms. "Come now, talk with me." Rubbing his distraught friend's back, "you know that you'll feel better." As he spoke, he fished a hankerchief from within a pocket of his robes and transfigured it into a couch._

"_Minerva missed lunch earlier, so I went up to make sure she made it down for dinner." Wiping the tears from her eyes, she continued. "When I got up to her office, she told me that Professor Snape was there." The Gryffindor smiled softly as she accepted a silver colored hankerchief and wiped the remnants of her tears from her face. "So I go in and there's no one there but Minerva. She summoned a house elf and the poor thing couldn't bring itself to lie to me. She told me all about the potions that Minerva's been taking and when I asked it to bring me one of the vials-" Sniffling, "it was one that Professor Snape had brewed himself for staff use. Come to think of it, it probably came from his personal stores."_

"_Mione, you're jumping tracks."_

"_Sorry," the witch mumbled into the borrowed hankerchief. "Anyways, I ended up dragging her to the Infirmary to run a blood test to determine the number of sleep inducing hormone levels her body is currently producing; the results clearly show an alarmingly high number of these." At the wizard's blank look, "the invisible to see agents that tell our brain to tell the rest of our body to sleep." At the blonde's puzzled nod, "in layman's terms: Minerva is addicted to sleep potions which resulted in her __**dreaming**__ that Professor Snape was in that office with her and having a conversation."_

"_Potions can do that?"_

"_Potions are in essence, one of the key factors of magical medicine. Medicine can easily be "abused" without realizing it. There really ought to be more control on dispensing medicinal items in the Wizarding world like the Muggle."_

"_So now what?" Malfoy asked as he leaned back against the couch._

_Drawing a deep breath, the medi-witch straightened. __**"Now**__ I invoke authority to order our headmistress to take a vacation __**away**__ from the school, for the good of her health." Gulping, "and try to wean her off the addiction as best as I can. If I can't- __**If**__ I can't, I will have no choice but to send a full report of un-willful negligence to the Board of Governors."_

The Head of Slytherin stepped into the dimly antechamber and quietly closed the door behind him with the Granger's voice ringing in his ears. "Forgive me tardiness, gentlemen. A minor disturbance at the school shortly before my departure."

"Since you're the reason why we're running late, _you_ can explain."

Draco nodded his head warily, dreading the rapidly approaching meeting as he grasped the edge of the portkey.

A/N : _**Chapter 8 has been a **__complete __**torture for me to write. I really, really cannot wait for the actual plot to begin - so much so that I've had to go back and edit several times.**_

_**Still hunting for a beta :(**_

_**Chapter 9 is being written - so it begins...**_

_atomicmom : _wow, chapter 7 was "live" for all of an hour and you popped up! You're not stalking the story now, are you? lol Seriously, I appreciate the reviews - they are after all the food of us poor fanfic authors. I'm glad that I was able to create the snobby/backstabbers that I had pictured in my mind.

_suchrandomness : _I'm happy things are starting to shape up a bit. I don't want to just "dive" into the main story plot, I don't care for fics that do. If all goes according to my muse's plans, we should see at least 20 chapters with this fic - maybe more. As for "who IN Hogwarts' is in on it"...Draco (most certainly), Metsie the house elf(house elves are after all are "bound" to the family (past and present) that they serve. So it's logical to assume that she's fully aware of what's going. As Kreacher proved in OotP, they "see" and "hear" pretty much _everything_ that goes on in their "homes".) As for "who else"...well there are a couple walking the castle halls that know more than perhaps they should, or should they? ...Ah, Harry, he's _around_ somewhere. *stuffs "Harry" back into the broom closet.*


	10. Chapter 9

The group of wizards landed gracefully enough on the snowy white beach. Straightening their rumpled robes, they turned as one and began the journey along side the gentle lapping of waves. Each wizard was lost in thought as they slowly climbed the well worn path from the beach, their footprints smoothly washed away by the current. As they climbed upwards and way from where they were deposited, the vegetation grew denser. Their master's paranoia prohibited apparated onto the island, only portkeys were permitted and than only to the outermost edges of the island. Anyone wishing to approach, must traverse through the labyrinth of traps first.

Draco shivered as he stared up at the winding dirt path as it disappeared into the a thick forest of trees. Fae lanterns bobbed gently in the cool breeze, illuminating the way ahead. In the distance he could hear the cries of wolves, echoing in the serene world. He couldn't comprehend how a place could be so tranquil and inviting during the day; and so unsettling at night. Though the ground beneath his feet was unplottable and indeed did not appear even on Muggle maps. He briefly wondered if Voldemort had had such a place for his headquarters, if victory would have been so easily won. Shaking his head, he knew that one of Riddle's greatest weaknesses had been his pride. Had he not insisted upon claiming and utilizing a Muggle connection, especially one of his own ancestry, it would have been far harder to smoke the dark order out. The Head of Slytherin marveled at the cunning that his master had used in moving both orders around like a skilled puppeteer.

The wizards drew their cloaks tighter around there bodies, shrinking in on themselves as they traversed the steep and winding path before them. The Malfoy heir jumped slightly as a tree branch clung to the edges of his cloak, pulling him backwards mid-step. Cursing softly, he touched the tip of his wand to the offending wood. The tree screeched, pulling it's scorched limb back to it's trunk. Sneering at the offending tree as it's upper branches thrashed wildly at the empty air, he quickened his pace not wanting to be left behind. The island's master was known to own some of the world's deadliest plants, spread across the small island. Valuing his privacy, the wizard expanded his collection into new creations; adaption from pre-existing magical and muggle plant life. In addition to the volatile vegetation, there was other security measures installed to prevent an invading force from reaching the heart of the island. Magical wards hummed through the air, crafted by the world's top masters in Charms and Dark Arts.

As the group passed by a naturally formed boulder wall, they were careful to keep their feet on the rich red earth to avoid awakening the slumbering creature. The Ishi-sukin had been imported from Japan and bound to the island. Once aroused, it was a terrible sight to behold. Yet the Ishi-sukin was just one of many rare magical creatures that inhabited the island, but it was by far one of the hardest to kill due to the toughness of it's exterior skin. In between meals, the creature was content to sleep; conserving it's energy. The island was littered with such creatures, camouflaged as ordinary, non-threatening terrain until triggered. Regardless of what the trap was, the only thing that was certain; once sprung, death followed. The chokingly thick trees abruptly gave way to a wide open space blanketed in soft, short grass.

As they entered the open meadow, Draco could barely make-out the faint lines of the vast army sent to patrol their master's third line of defense. During the reign of Voldemort, their master had forged unshakable alliances with all those deemed persona non grata by both sides of the conflict. Now as he was slowly expanding his empire, more and more of these allies were finding their way to the island sanctuary. Shiny copper twinkled intermediately in the darkness from the light cast by the Fae lanterns. The soldiers hugged the night, keeping themselves cloaked from the light illuminating the wizards' path, their eyes watching the progress through their domain.

At length the group made their way through the last several layers of security before emerging into a tranquil glade. The musical serenade of water greeted their tired ears as they slowly made their way up the cobblestone path. Waving their wands in turn before the stone guardians, they crossed the heavy wooden bridge. Draco eyed the avenue of rock wearily, knowing he was walking through a line of defenders. A sudden breeze rustled the wizards' hair and as one, they crouched low to avoid the invisible assailant from above. "Moon Moth, she's new."

"Things must be advancing much better than we thought if he is already increasing his security measures." An auburn haired wizard muttered to himself as he followed his brethren across the drawbridge.

"He's got to be the single most paranoid person I know of," a sandy haired wizard mumbled to himself as he crossed.

The heavy oak door rose before them, slipping from view within the ceiling compartment. "He has waited for two decades to rise to this point, I'd be concerned about making sure no one mucks things up as well, Donovan." A silvery voice drawled from within the shadows of the keep.

Nodding their heads, "Malfoy." After greeting the reigning patriarch, they filed quietly into the Entrance Hall.

"Wipe your feet, cretins." The older Slytherin sneered, "what do you think you are, a bunch of rowdy schoolboys?"

Trying to blend in with the rest of his party, Draco stiffened slightly as he felt the weight of a hand fall casually onto his shoulder. "Father?"

"Why are you late?"

"I couldn't get away tonight. Hagrid was _removed_ from the school and Granger is convinced that McGonagall is addicted to sleeping potions." The younger wizard shuffled his feet, "is she?"

"It is not our place to question what is going on. His plans are too intercut for everyone to understand, that is the reason why everything is on a need to know basis." Lucius Malfoy said as he guided his heir down the hall. "Less opportunity for him to be betrayed as well."

"I understand, Father."

"Do you, my young Dragon?" The elder wizard glanced at his son, "if what we have all been working towards for the last twenty years comes to pass, our family's honor will be fully restored. The Malfoy Family will stand second only from him in the new world order - shared, unfortunately with another. But they are a worthy family as well, their Head is highly valued by our master."

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, the Potions instructor turned to his father and noticed the hard lines from his previous life under the thumb of Riddle. "Would we still be following him if Grandfather had not supported the Dark Lord?"

"Yes. My father made the mistake of pledging our souls to that monster out of fear." Sighing, "you must understand. It is not because of our master that our world is now in the darkest peril that it has seen in a thousand years. It was already crumbling when Dumbledore defeated his _partner___Gindelwald. It was only in the ashes of this lingering darkness that Riddle was able to pull himself up to be the pompous and sadistic dark lord that he wished to be. It was Voldemort's ambition to rule through fear and tyranny to _protect_ himself from those that surpassed him." Indicating to his son to continue, "this has been the way of dark wizards since the first discovered magic. _What you can control, cannot harm you._"

"Slytherin said that."

"Indeed."

"And our master? Why did you pledge our family to him?"

"Ah, I did _not_ bind our family to him as my father did with Voldemort." Pinching the bridge of his nose, "I pledged _myself_ to our master when we were still in Hogwarts. Despite his blood status, he has always been beyond what I could have become had it not been for my father's actions." Brushing a lock of blonde hair from his son's face, "unlike Riddle, our master has the strength to help heal our world. With the way things are going now, child, wizards will be exposed to the Muggles. The world that we grew up in will be no more and we will find ourselves having to defend ourselves against the Muggles once again."

The Head of Slytherin was quiet as he thought over what his sire had explained to him. He had shuddered as the memories from his sixth year History of Magic class rose to the surface. The early winter term had begun with the exploration of the Dark Ages, where Muggles had surged in a mass hysteria - hunting those with the magical gene. Amongst all the carnage left over by the Church, only two witches and one wizard had actually been burnt at the infamous stakes. But the mass murder in the disguise of religious protection had been enough to freeze the blood in his body. Afterwards, it was quite easy to continue playing the part of a Death Eater in-training. "Not that I'm _really_ questioning, Father. But way all the new laws surrounding the movement of the people?"

"These are necessary restrictions, Draco. Containing every magical person in our world, helps to ensure that there are no accidental slip-ups. It is easier to cover up things if you don't have to get directly involved. By keeping everyone _out_ of the Muggle sphere, it will be easier for us to concentrate on rebuilding our world. Just as the new sorting of reproducing Purebloods will help strengthen our world. With more births, there are more variations to add into our gene pool - which will in turn cut down on the inbreeding. Your Aunt Bella is an _excellent___example of what happens when families inter-marry and reproduce too much without adding new blood."

"That's why everyone's parents have been re-assigned partners."

"Exactly, Draco." As he spoke, the older Malfoy stepped into the Great Hall with his heir at his heels. "It is through our positions with the master, amongst other things, that has kept us from being added to those breeding lists."

"I am glad that our family has been spared."

"While we have never _allowed_ Muggleborns to marry into our family, we have introduced fresh blood every four generations." Smirking, "that at least meet with approved by your grandfather as well."

"Let the spirit of that deluded fool rest, Lucius."

Turning to address his friend, "indeed. Draco was simply curious on a few matters, Dominus.

Nodding his head, onyx eyes focused on the younger wizard. "Yes, your heir. You are grooming him well, my old friend. If he continues down this path, and _doesn't_ degenerate back to his spoiled childhood, he will succeed you as one of my captains. For now, he will remain a one of my most trusted lieutenants."

"Thank you, Dominus." Both Malfoys inclined their heads as the wizard walked away. Twin pairs of silver eyes followed the figure move quietly around the hall before ascending to the slightly raised platform. "Quickly, take your place."

"Father, my place?"

"Dominus has _just_ raised you in rank to lieutenant, honestly Draco, pay _attention_." Lucius Malfoy hissed as he hurried to take his place on the left-hand side of his master. Nodding dumbly, Draco hurried to the left-hand side of the hall and secured a place in the front, near the head.

"My _dear_ friends, welcome. Since we are all gathered here, _finally." _Glancing sharply at the Potions instructor, "we can begin." Turning to his right side, "report?"

A brown haired wizard stepped forward and nodded his head, "Dominus." Clearing his throat, "the Department of Magical Creatures is working in conjuncture with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to round up the centaur herd in residence in the Forbidden Forest. Once the herd is relocated to the Ministry, the unicorn herd will follow. The Acromantula nest in residence have been captured and transported outside of the forest as well."

Leaning back in the ornate ebony chair, "progress indeed." Pursing his lips, "how soon will the merefolk be moved?"

"Within the week, Dominus."

"Hmm, keep me appraised."

"As always."

Turning to a familiar bald headed wizard, "your report?"

Bowing, "candidates for Hogwarts' staff members are being interviewed by the Board and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is running background checks as we speak. Rubeus Hagrid; Groundskeeper, Keeper of Keys **and** Care of Magical Creatures professor has been removed from the school. He has been shuffled through the Department of Magical Creatures, St. Mungos' and back into the holding cells - and is now waiting your pleasure."

"Excellent, Kingsley. See that he's brought to court _tonight_."

"As you wish, Dominus." The auror bowed stiffly, pivoted and hurried from the Great Hall.

_A/N_ _**This chapter has been a bit of a challenge to write. That said, I truly hope that you enjoy this chapter. **_

Ishi-sukin literally translates to English as "stone-skin".

The Moon Moth was created by Piers Anthony, Incarnations of Immoratlity series.

Dominus - Latin, orgional meaning -_master; owner; master of the house; the title or common address common (non-nobles) for the Roman Emperor._

suchrandomness : You're quite welcome. The Hermione I remember from the books (perhaps it's wishful thinking) is one that is constantly "seeing" more than that's right in front of her nose. In the case of the Hermione of _this_ story, it certainly seems that way. The "birth" of Hermione and Draco's friendship - _now_ that was an interesting event all of it's own. I'm glad that you like my new Care of Magical Creatures' professor, he's...an intriguing character.

Decimare - welcome to the story! don't fall off that seat just as the plot hasn't begun yet. As for the mental wellbeing of our Headmistress - I don't think that _anyone_ working in the castle is completely sane, especially after what I've already put them through. But hey, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Her Royal Goddess : So far things have been a little on the dark side and I wanted to squeeze in a little sunshine. I figured who better to use then a pair of opposites that some how, despite open anomisity (and sometimes hostility) during their formative years, matured and was able to put past grievences if not completely in the past - than enough to at least move forward.

Greyfalcon : I love building slowly, teasing about what _might_ happen and than throwing in a curve ball (or two) and watching the chaos.


	11. Chapter 10

The doors of the Great Hall opened, revealing a cluster of bodies surrounding a much larger individual. From his placement near the raised platform, Draco could easily make out the familiar features of Hogwarts' resident half-giant as he was marched in. It was easy to see, to anyone who bothered to look, that Hagrid was worn down and doused heavily with sedative potions. The heavily armed escort and magical chains were hardly necessary in the Potions instructor's opinion. The quality of the sedative potions were of such a high medicinal grade that he doubted the former Groundskeeper was barely aware of what was going on. He watched quietly as his father waved his wand in an complex pattern with uncanny grace over the crest embedded in the middle of the floor. Draco watched, mesmerized as the crest swirled; mimicking a whirlpool in the stone floor.

His face itched underneath the cold metal of the mask that he wore. Looking around him, the chamber was filled with wizard and witches sporting similar masks in copper, bronze, gold and the highly sought after silver. Like a Muggle army with it's unique distinctions; the material of the mask ranked the wearer, the overall shape of the masks designated which branch they served. Each mask was blood bound to its user, preventing another from wearing them. Only the eyes of the mask revealed the truth of the living, _mortal_ hidden beneath. Amongst brethren and safely concealed from outside scrutiny, there was no need for the final piece of their costumes. The unusual disguises imbued the wearer with an other world aura when faced with the opposition. All in all, those souls bounded to Dominus were a vision of strength and intimidation that Voldemort's clumsily dressed Death Eaters lacked. Every witch and wizard in the Great Hall was part of the greater puzzle that consisted of Dominus' wizard army, a blade to be used with surgical procession.

Like most of the occupants of the Great Hall, he watched as the former Hogwarts' professor was led to the middle of the swirling pool. As soon as Hagrid's feet touched the moving floor, he began to sink. Draco held his breath as the half-giant finally stopped sinking, his legs up to the knees buried in the floor. Glancing up at his father, he cocked his head and fought the urge to step back as his eyes fell upon the mask the older wizard wore. Stepping down from his slightly higher post, "more effective than the Interrogator's Chair."

"What's going to happen to him, Father?"

Shrugging, "only Dominus knows."

"Oh."

Laying a hand on his heir's shoulder, "you've never been present when Dominus has laid down his judgment."

"No, Father."

"Do not fret, Child. Dominus is fair and if the verdict is negative, the end is quick; usually."

"_Usually?"_

"Once or twice there has been someone that has been brought before the Court, their crimes so heinous that Dominus has seen fit to pass punishments that fit the crimes." Glancing at the direction of the drooling half-giant, "I don't believe this is one of _those_ cases."

"Yes, Father."

Patting the younger Malfoy on the back, "Dominus wishes to see you after Court." At the alarmed look in his son's eyes, "he is _not_ that upstart Voldemort." Turning, he returned to his position at the left hand of the ebony throne.

Silence permeated the Great Hall as the side door opened, a figure dressed in solid black robes stepped into the room. Black dragonhide boots peeked out from beneath the robe's hem as the figure made it's way towards the raised platform. Draco fought to suppress a cold shiver, knowing that it was Dominus' face beneath the mask. Resuming his seat, Dominus nodded. Lucius Malfoy stepped forward and down until he stood just before the raised platform. "Pay heed, the Accused; Rubeus Hagrid, son of a wizard and giantess. Know that you now stand trial before the Wizarding World. Petty though your crimes are, they must be addressed once and for all." Pivoting, the older Malfoy retreated to his previous position.

"Who is the Voice For Those Who Have None?" Dominus' voice carried over the silent chamber.

"I defend the defenseless." A voice called out from the back of the Great Hall. The sea of bodies parted, revealing a portly figure as he made his way to the front. Gold shone beneath the torch light as the Lion Headed figure stopped next to near catatonic Hagrid. Ruby eyes sparkled as the figure straightened from the bow. "The Accused is charged with illegal magical usage - in the Muggle World!"

A low murmur emanated from the gathered crowd. _"Silence!_ Present your evidence."

"Dominus, the Accused did knowingly violate the mandate set down by the Ministry of Magic. After being expelled from Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the end of his third year as a result of a fellow student's death, a Ms. Myrtle Hoppenstance; the terms for _not_ being sent to Azkaban Prison was the loss of using his magic. His wand was snapped and then he was let free, after then Headmaster Dumbledore vouched for him."

"Rebuttal from the Accused?" The torches flickered, their flames lowering as a blue sphere rose from the floor in front of Hagrid.

"_Happy birthday, Harry!"_ _Hagrid boomed as he squinted down at a chubby boy, "a little bigger than I expected all things considering."_

_The chubby boy shrank back against his parents, "I-I-I'm n-n-not Ha-H-Harry!" Pointing a meaty finger at the dark haired boy off to the side and behind him, "he's Harry!"_

_Stepping back, the half-giant quickly recovered. "Here you go, Harry. I should've known **you** were Harry, you've got your mum's eyes." Digging in his pocket, Hagrid removed a pink confections box and handed it to the smaller of the two boys. "Kinda sat on it on the way over, sorry."_

"_For me?" The boy stared at the box in wonder, gently brushing at the crumpled top. "Thank you!" Untying the ribbon, he gently opened the box. _

"_Baked it myself," Hagrid proudly told the than eleven year old Harry Potter._

_Shyly smiling up at the large man, Harry savored the **look** of the first birthday cake he'd ever received. Setting the box down, "I'm sure it's delicious."_

"_You can't have him," the overly large man with the portbelly said as he shoved the barrel of a shotgun in the half-giant's face. "He'll not be attending that **school** of yours."_

"_Not attending? Every Potter since the time of the Founders has attended Hogwarts'! Why he's name's been down in the Book since the day he was born." Hagrid thundered as he grabbed the shotgun and bent the barrel, "and I don't like things pointed in my face either. It's rude." Shifting his weight, "why-" Turning as quickly as he could, he raised his umbrella. Pointing it at the chubby boy, he mumbled under his breath. "Fitting."_

_Harry and his relatives whirled around as Dudley cried out in shock at the sudden appearance of a curly pig's tail on his rear side. Harry tried vainly to surpress a snicker as his larger cousin _screeched and began to run wildly around the old shack.

The torches snapped as their flames stretched upwards, reaching for the darkness and driving it back. The blue orb hovered, turning slightly grey as it waited.

Clasping his gloved hands together, "a child who steals from another who is less fortunate, is deserving of punishment. The Accused, while violating his terms of parole, met out justice without going to the extreme." Sighing, "it is _my_ decision that it was justifiable magical use."

Bowing the Lion Headed wizard continued, the Accused knowingly brought a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon _onto_ school grounds during the school term. While in possession of the egg, he did successfully hatch it. It was his intention to _keep_ it and count it amongst several other harmful creatures that were exposed to Hogwarts' students." The orb shimmered blue as the torch light sizzled, lowering the light they cast.

"_What's that popping noise?" Hermione Granger asked as looked around the main room of the hut._

"_What popping noise? I don't hear anything." Rubbing his hands briskly together, "you three should be heading back up to the castle." The half-giant tried to gently shoo the three Gryffindor first years out the door._

"_Hagrid, what do have in the cooking pot?" The know-it-all of Gryffindor asked as she leaned across the too large of a table. Sighing, Hagrid gave in and retrieved the hatching egg from his cooking pot. Setting the egg before him on the table, he crooned softly. "Is that a **dragon's egg**, Hagrid?"_

"_Not just any dragon's egg, fellow I won it from at the pub said that it's a Norwegian Ridgeback." Cocking his head, "come to think of it, he seemed quite happy to part with it."_

The orb faded to a blue-grey and waited as the torches flickered back to life. "If memory serves correctly, the dragon hatchling in question is now a resident at one of the Romanian Dragon Preserves and is by far one of the _gentlest_ Norwegian Ridgebacks in existence." his hands together, "_however_ that still does not excuse the fact that such a highly dangerous creature was brought onto school grounds and _hatched_." Turning his attention to the immobile Groundskeeper, "to the charge of unnecessarily endangering underage citizens of the wizarding world you are found guilty. Sentence is thus: forty-five days in the cells. Afterwards you will serve a minimum of five years of probation. During this probation period, you will not come into contact with _any_ potentially dangerous creatures."Flicking his wrist lazily, the wizard summoned his wine bearer. A middle aged wizard with lines worn into his face quickly approached bearing a silver goblet on his tray. Keeping his eyes averted from the figure seated on the raised platform, he extended the tray. "Thank you." Turning his onyx eyes back to the proceedings before him, "Defender continue."

"There is _one_ more charge, against this _individual_." Shrugging his shoulders, "the Accused did knowing _and_ willing aid a known Death Eater." A rustle of voices washed over the Great Hall before silencing abruptly. "The Accused on numerous occasions did indeed assist one Professor Severus Tobias Snape from the Forbidden Forest, the _very_ gates of Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the nearby village of Hogsmeade after returning from meetings with other members of the dark order known as the Death Eaters and the wizard formerly known as Lord Voldemort. The Accused was fully aware of the Dark Mark on Professor Snape's arm _and _ that the professor had _willing_ joined these terrible wizards." Pausing for effect, "the Accused did _knowingly_ provide aid in the form of life-saving measures to the afore mentioned Snape."

A thunderous silence permeated the Great Hall as the assembled crowd held their collective breath. The orb hovering before the half-giant shimmered blue-

"_Where is he, Fang?" Hagrid's gentle timbre broke through the darkness, "if he hasn't found us yet, the professor's hurting." The bloodhound whimpered pitfully, "if we don't find him and he is hurt, who's going to be slipping you those rawhides that you don't think I don't know about?" Snorting as well as a dog could, the canine pushed a foot further ahead of his master. "Always knew that you'd do just about anything for stomach, boy." Holding the lantern over his head, the Groundskeeper strained to see in the darkness just beyond the light. "Bloody awful night to be called out of one's bed and off to only who knows where." Mumbling to himself, Hagrid trudged through the Forbidden Forest after his dog._

"_Professor! Professor Snape! Can you hear me at all?" His gentle eyes filled with worry as the lantern banished the darkness before him, forcing the night to retreat for only a few feet at time. Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, the Keeper of Keys absently played with his wild beard. "Not good, no not good at all." Hagrid whimpered softly as he trudged further into the smothering darkness of the all too quiet forest. "No centaurs. No pyromatic pixies. No lustering fireflies. Rubeus old boy, perhaps you should turn around **right now** and get the Headmaster." Nodding his head, he called softly to Fang. "Come on boy, Dumbledore'll know what to do about this."_

_Hurrying as fast as his legs would carry him, Hagrid retreated from the thunderous silence blanketing the Forbidden Forest with his bloodhound at his heels. Shaking his head, "what's gotten into you?" Bewildered, he stared down at the dog as it suddenly darted in front of him and yepped before dashing off again. "I don't have time for games, Fang. There's something **off** about the forest tonight." Sighing, "I **know** that the professor is somewhere in there. I did after all hear the bell that signaled his return." Groaning in frustration, "fine. We better not be digging up one of your bones, Fang." Grumbling, he ambled after the canine as he fingered the rockets in his pocket. "I need to speak to the Headmaster about getting one of these to **summon** a search party from out here." Bracing himself against a large oak, he hiked himself over a large rotting log in Fang's wake. "The least you could is wait up for me, bloody dog."_

_Pushing his way through a particularly thick bush, Hagrid jerked to a stop at the sight that greeted him. The bloodhound whimpered mournfully as he nudged the dark hair of a familiar figure laying sprawled on the forest floor. "Oi, Professor!" Hurrying as fast his legs would let him, Hagrid nearly tripped over a rock. Kneeling beside the unmoving body, "rest easy there." Fumbling in his pocket, Hagrid dumped the sack of fireworks out on the ground by the prone form. Setting the lantern down so that the light hit the rockets, the half-giant scattered them about. Sighing in relief, he quickly opened the lantern and eased the fuse into the flickering flame. "Don't you think about going out now," Hagrid muttered. As soon as the first sparks shot off the fuse, the Groundskeeper slammed it's launching pole into the earth. Turning, he covered the helpless wizard with his own larger body as the rocket shot into through the heavy canopy and into the night sky far above. "I can't move you, Professor. You're hurting pretty bad and I don't want to take the chance of doing something much worse." Shrugging out of his jacket, he laid it across the injured wizard. "I'm no good a healing stuff, but Madam Pomfrey put an everlast warming charm on it." Settling in next to the unconscious Slytherin, "help should be here anytime now."_

The orb sputtered as it sank towards the floor, fading into the stone. All eyes fell upon the Lion Headed wizard, "this was but one of the _tamer_ instances the Accused assisted the known Hogwarts' resident Death Eater."

"Yes, there have been numerous accounts of eyewitness testimony of Professor Snape's involvement with the dark order that paraded across Britain." Brushing invisible lint from his black robes, "however, there is _equally_ compelling evidence of Professor Snape's duties as a spy from _within _these ranks." Sighing, Dominus stared out at the empty night. "It is my decision that Rubeus Hagrid is _not_ guilty of aiding and abetting a criminal _after_ the fact." Standing so that he towered over the occupants of the Great Hall, "this session of Court is adjourned."

Pivoting, Dominus made his way out of the hall and away from his followers. The burden of absolute power weighed heavily on his shoulders. What started out as simply a childhood pipe-dream, was slowly becoming a reality as a result of necessity. Were he to be asked under the influence of vertaserum, he would happy inform those sworn to his service that he would gladly trade his new position of power for the safety of his world; the safety of his future offspring. He did not regret taking hold of the mantle that he currently wore, someone was needed to lead their world into the future and out of the rubble that was left behind.

Two decades ago, he and most of the members of his inner circle had gathered. Before there was _Dominus_, and before the stage was set for a new, fresh face to gather the reins. They had chanced upon one another on a stormy winter's night in Knockturn Alley. House allegiances from their days as Hogwarts' students were set aside as concerns were raised over shared pints of ale. They all knew that the self-styled Dark Lord would return and old fears were re-awakened. It been a struck of good fortune that Lily and James Potter had triumphed where so many others had failed previously. Whispered rumors of the darkest magic abounded in the tavern as they sought what little comfort the others were able to offer.

Where Dumbldore laid his trust in a prophesy that may or may not come to pass, they struggled with their imaginations when it came to the outcome of a returned madman and what could possibly become of their precious world. Deep down, none of the wizards gathered that night in December could accurately predict the ruins that remain once Dumbledore's prophecy either bore fruit or withered upon the vine. In desperation, the group composed a _"in case of"_ contingency plan.

On warm spring night the following year, the group had elected Dominus to spearhead the new era should the need arise. Their new de facto leader was both secretly pleased and apprehensive. Should either side discover their late night, drunk rambling plans; he knew that out of all them, the Dementor's Kiss awaited him. Five years after the final defeat of the self-proclaimed _Lord_ Voldemort, they had elected to begin their secret re-build of their world.

In the beginning, Dominus had sought counsel on a regular basis from those from within his inner circle. He had bathed in the power that was handed to him until the weight of the responsibilities began to add. Top secret Ministry documents found their way to his desk daily, piled next to countless reports compiled by St. Mungo's staff. The desperate state of not only Wizarding Britain, but the rest of the Wizarding World as well.

Despite his own distaste of the politics involved, Dominus sent out emissaries to neighboring nations. They scouted on his behalf, testing foreign waters for potential allies and bringing to attention possible obstacles. As he read over the reports that were piling on his desk, his stomach knotted as the full scope of the problems covering the globe. Dominus had spent countless sleepless nights wandering aimlessly through the halls of Prince Manor, the horrors spelled out in black and white on the parchment that littered his desk running continously through his mind.

On the dawn of the first year anniversary of the first fall of Voldemort, he had awoken in a cold sweat. The atrocities that had visited him in the still of the night echoed through his head as he had hurriedly dressed and dispatched owls to his inner circle. By the strike of the witching hour of that night, his most loyal were combing the length of Britannia for more recruits. As more numbers flocked to him, his power grew stronger. At length he began to draft the foundation for a tangible regime, discarding useless whims of fantasy. Unlike his predecessor, Dominus refrained from openly branding any who aligned themselves with him. The mass hysteria of any secret organization was running with a feverish high in Britain and he had no desire to become a footnote in a forgotten text on the shelves of the vast library in Hogwarts. Fortune smiled down upon him as Death Eater trials and scared raids kept the eyes of those in power far from him.

The construction of a solid power base granted him the funding to lay the foundation for a base that would one day be impenetrable. Unlike the upstart Tom Riddle, he did not drain dry the financial rivers of his followers. Instead, Dominus used capital _donated_ to invest in both local and foreign businesses. Cashing in on some of the proceeds from them, he in turn threw the profit into new venues. By the second anniversary of Potter's initial victory, Dominus _rewarded_ his generous benefactors with the return of their donations in addition to a tidy sum of _gratitude_. Following the third year of the stalemate, Dominus was beginning new businesses from the ground up. Hundreds of out of work squibs flocked to him, happy to work for a decent wage without fear of ridicule. For the first time since the original rise of Voldemort, British wizarding economy was steadily rising and once again making the foreign countries scramble to keep up.

Dominus had scooped a small army of informants and workers straight from underneath both the noses of the Ministry of Magic _and_ the eventual returning Dark Lord in a single, ingenious them, he built upward through the grey areas of society. By the first decade of the initial downfall of Tom Riddle, Dominus had successfully created an underground army made up of mostly societies outcasts. Like house elves, they swarm the edges of their world and picked up tidbits of reliable intelligence wherever they happen to set foot. So called _wild packs_, werewolves who by definition shunned the very society that cast them out, were quick to place their trust in one who was shown timelessly to be worthy.

In addition to funneling a blooming business empire below the radar of wizarding Britain, Dominus cultivated planned communities hidden away from prying eyes. Though personal experience colored his perspective of werewolves, homes were constructed for these; the poorest of the outcasts. Most of Britannia was unaware that a great deal of the physical labors that were expended on their behalf to produce various items for their homes was created by those that they deemed _sub-human_. Squibs, werewolves and other outcasts resided in homes created by Dominus' vast empire and labored in his businesses. Thanks to the wizarding world at large's steadfast prejudices, Dominus become the master of a virtually undetected army under their very noses. It had long ago ceased to astound him just how far people would leap after being shown a small fraction of the innate kindness that everyday citizens took for granted.

As the years passed until the resurrection of Tom Riddle, Dominus shed his boyhood fantasy of petty revenge against those who had wronged him. It made little sense since two were declared dead, a third was rotting in Azkaban Prison, the fourth was wandering from spot to spot and the fifth was currently beyond his reach anyways. Instead he waited in the shadows, coiled and ready to strike.

Slipping inside his private chambers, he wandlessly raised his wards. Stripping his costume off, Dominus muttered a charm that filled his luxurious bath with hot water. Tendrils of steam rose in the air as he stepped into the water and eagerly sank into the soothing heat. Slowly, one by one his muscles began to relax as the weight was washed away from his shoulders for a short while. Leaning his head back to rest on the satin pillow, he sighed as leith hands rubbed the tension from his aching neck. Groaning, "hands of an angel." Sighing he let his body relax under the ministration.

As the water grew cold, Dominus dragged himself out of the bath and allowed himself to be dressed. With the day's business completed, he was looking forward to the evening meal where he could forgot for a time the whole business of establishing his unchallenged rule and relax amongst friends. Slipping a robe made from the finest Oriental silk over his evening apparel, he wandlessly brought down the wards and made his way to the dining hall.

Because Dominus had expanded his stronghold from the original structure, he was able to incorporate any new rooms that he wished. While dining in the Great Hall in old castles such as Hogwarts' was fine when there was a demand for keeping a close eye on the inhabitants such as students in the case of the school; Dominus did not care to eat where blood was shed. In addition, the more room that was available, the more often the house elves would breed to add to the countless army already in residence. The more elves readily available, the faster and cleaner it became.

The massive double doors swung open, torch light sparkled off the dishes ladened on the deep emerald green table cloth. Plush velvet lined the backs of deep chestnut chairs, bordering the long table on either side. The assembled wizards and witches stood at the back of their chairs as Dominus made his way to his seat. Expensive jewels glimmered under the candles sporadically placed along the table top. Taking his seat, he signaled for the meal to begin. Light conversation floated through the room as Dominus' guests quickly assumed their seats. Above the clatter of silverware and glasses being filled, the house elves delivered the appetizers.

Conversing with the Malfoy family as he dug into the bountiful salad before him, Dominus allowed himself to relax even further. Leaning down so only the Malfoy heir could hear above the smattering of dishes, "how are things at Hogwarts?"

"As well as to be expected, I believe." Draco swallowed a drink of Elfwine, "you may recall that Hermione Granger is now the school's medi-witch." At the older wizard's nod, "she's convinced that Headmistress McGonagall is suffering from hallucinations brought on by an addiction to sleeping assisting potions." Gently wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin, "the current staff doesn't know what to think about the new curriculum passed down from the Board of Governors." Smiling in pleasure as the soup course arrived with a flourish, "having the new Care of Magical Creatures instructor arrive before anyone could finish reeling from the shock of seeing Hagrid being arrested was a master stroke."

"Indeed."

"I'm still not sure what to think of Mister _Stephan Storm_, though." Breaking a bit off the freshly baked roll, "is he one of ours?"

"He is," Dominus confirmed.

"He looks familiar, should I know him?"

"Never you mind, Draco." Sipping from his crystal goblet, "how is the moral of the rest of the school?"

"The students seemed to have settled in well so far this term." Pausing to steal a swallow of his wine, "there have been one or two of the new Snaklings that have needed a bit extra assistance in settling in." Looking torn, "there are a few at the castle that you might wish to _interview_ for their suitability on the teaching staff though."

Jerking his head up from his soup, "what? I personally reviewed the staff myself."

Glancing apologetically at his father, "I know. However there have been some _complications_ with the over all harmony at the school. I fear that unless they are addressed, it will begin to effect the overall student body."

"The division amongst the Houses has been a time honored problem since the founding of the school well over a thousand years ago. If it were not an ingrained tradition, I would simply do away with the houses altogether." Sighing as the empty soup bowls vanished, "the children of our world have already suffered more than what is acceptable." Turning to the elder Malfoy, "see that this _disturbances_ are brought before the next Court." Wiping the corners of his mouth, "we cannot allow Hogwarts to become divided. If we are to reestablish the Old Ways, the school _must_ remain a mecca during the dark times ahead of us. The Wizarding World _must_ turned to Britain as the bright light in the night, they must be willing to follow our lead if we are to survive."

"Are there any new orders?"

Looking up from the main course, "yes." Turning to the source of the voice, "it is time for the next phase to commence. I'm sure that I can count you, Mr. Nott?"

Swallowing tightly, the weedy looking wizard nodded. "As always, Dominus."

"Good." Turning to fully look at the former Slytherin, "I'm sure that I have no concern regarding failure on your part?"

Paling, "with all due respect, I am _not_ my father."

"No, Theodore, you are not." Swirling the last swallow of wine in his goblet, "nor I am Voldemort." Frowning down into the red-purple liquid, "but I will not tolerate failure at this juncture. There is too much at stake to take unnecessary risks."

"Dominus, have seen tomorrow's edition of _The Daily Prophet_?" As she spoke, Narcissa Malfoy slide the paper in question to the dark haired wizard. "A most _interesting_ article can be found on page twenty-seven, at the bottom right corner."

Quirking an eyebrow, Dominus unfolded the paper with distaste and turned to the page as directed. A lazy smile tittered on the slight upturned corners of his lips as he read.

A/N: **The story at one point will begin to contain content of the adult nature. I will **not** be posting those scenes here on . An un-edited version will be posted in a community on livejournal.**

**This chapter's a bit longer than normal, but I wanted to give "Dominus" a chance to tell his side of the story - as much as my muse is willing to at least.**

Heliata : I am _very _glad that you are still guessing as to how this will play out, that means I'm doing something right.

suchrandomness : Thank you, I didn't want to finish outlining the defenses, keeping some back so that I can throw a few curve balls in there. Stephen Storm...yes and no.

atomicmom : things are _slow_ now, but once we get into the thick of things it would probably be best to sit down and hold on tight. As for the new regime itself, there are few _new_ twists and turns that I haven't seen in fics _yet_ that are chomping at the bit to get written down and thrown out there.

wintersong1954 : Thanks for reading. I refuse to answer...

Greyfalcon : I think that in the books, Voldemort's intelligence level dropped after he made his first horcrux. Since "Dominus" is suppose to be a step up from Tom Riddle AND he's had more time to plot/plan as well as having had Voldemort as an example on what NOT to do...

Sic Vita Est : Welcome, pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable.


	12. Chapter 11

Returning to the castle after a relaxing weekend at Court, the Potions instructor settled back into the daily grind that was currently his lot in life. The ripples surrounding the latest law enacted by the Ministry of Magic still had the wizarding world of Great Britain and Northern Ireland floundering. Witches and wizards everywhere had woken to find their world once again turned upside down whilst the oldest of the portraits from the oldest families nodded their heads sagely; approving the recent steps taken by the flailing Ministry of Magic. Those long since deceased family members applauded the bold move pushed through by the current Minister of Magic as a stroke of genius, sealing him favorably in their eyes.

More pressing news to Hogwarts' itself was the sudden medical leave of it's Headmistress. While she would maintain her residency within the castle walls, administrative world fell to the shoulders of the school's Deputy Headmaster. Charles Rattecliff's valiant attempts to juggle three workloads was wearing the wizard down, the Head of Slytherin noticed as the he took his place at the Head Table. He smothered the urge to smirk openly at the spineless worm that held the dubious honor of teaching Defense Against Dark Arts. Draco didn't doubt that by the end of McGonagall's confinement from her duties, the abysmal man from Drumstang would be checking into his very own room at St. Mungo's. To everyone around him, the speed of the Board of Governors was astounding. He knew that it wouldn't help matters any if they were to find out that the political wheels had been greased sufficiently to allow for both the Alpha Lioness' removal as school head and her continued presence.

The blonde wizard turned his attention to the student body before him. His heart ached at the sight of the confused children milling around their house tables, comforting the Muggleborn population as best as they could. To lose such a valuable ally in one swift motion and the next to be blindsided, their world forever changed. Seven years ago the oldest students born to Muggle parents entered the Magical World full of excitement and anticipation. Watching them covertly from his place at the end of the table, Draco witnessed the fight within themselves as they were torn asunder by the very government that they had always turned to for protection. Those same students now found themselves being targeted by that governing body. New arrivals, fresh from the Muggle realm, discovered a world that was changing the course of their lives beyond what they had originally signed up for. He was secretly relieved that due to both his parents' status, and his own budding one, within the Inner Circle of Court; that he was beyond the reach _and_ effect of the Ministry of Magic.

The Potions instructor nodded his head as a bushy haired witch collapsed in the seat next to him with a weary sigh. "Difficulties?"

Roughly brushing a few rebellious strands of hair from her face, "did you have a lovely weekend-" the mediwitch waved her hand in the air, "wherever you slithered off to?"

"You know, Granger, for once you could bottle the snark-ness and answer honestly." Holding his hand over his heart, "must you resort to pettiness?"

"Grow up, Malfoy." Waving her hand across the empty plate before her, "_some_ of us don't get to trapse off to Gods-Know-Where in the middle of the night." Turning on the blonde wizard, "you couldn't have sent a house elf to let people know where you were?" Snorting, she speared the carrots on her plate. "You know, it must be _so_ nice to be able to unload one's responsibilities at a moment's notice and go gallivanting off to wherever." Swallowing, "you're what? Twenty-one? Twenty-two?" Waving away the wizard's response, "you probably think that you're above the rest of us. I mean, you're a _Malfoy - _everyone, everything _else_ is beneath your notice. So why shouldn't you go and do as you please?" Sticking her empty fork into his chest, "I had four; _four_ Muggleborn girls brought into _my_ Infirmary. Do you know why, _Malfoy_?" Sighing, "of course _you_ don't." Dropping her fork onto her plate, "well I'll tell you _why_. Thanks to the _wonderful _and _ intelligent __**politicians**_running our world, their lives as they know it are virtually _**over**_!"

"Aren't you being a tad _over_ dramatic?"

"_**Over dramatic?**_ Malfoy, dig that arrogant rich boy nose out of your arse and open your eyes!" Throwing her hands up in the air, "can you honestly tell me that if the Ministry of Magic _ripped_ you away from your family and then told you that there was no way for you to _ever_ see them again - would you just keep taking it on the chin? Or would you do what _my_ students have been doing all weekend since that blasted article came out in that cursed _Daily Prophet _and slit your wrists or drink a poison?"

"Surely you're over embellishing."

"_I do not exaggerate when we are discussing lives." _The former Gryffindor snarled, "three of my students are now at St. Mungo's Intense Critical Unit because of what they read in the _Daily Prophet_ and promptly slit their wrists. Their blood is on the Minister's hands," Ms. Granger snarled as she fled the staff table is a swirl of robes.

Bursting into the hallway, the witch allowed the Staff door to slam against the stone walls as she stalked down the deserted hall. Grumbling under her breath, Ms. Granger slunk outdoors. "Prat." Viciously kicking a loose rock from her path, "git." Sinking down on the old wood bench, "ferret-faced snake!" Burying her face in her hands, the witch sobbed as she recalled the article.

_**Familia Adoptio Act Passes**_

_**Ministry of Magic Passes Newest Muggleborn Legislation **_

Liza Hunter - _The Daily Prophet_

_In a surprising move on behalf of the Ministry of Magic of the United Kingdom (which consists of Scotland, Wales, England and Northern Ireland), the _Familia Adoptio _or Family Adoption Act passed with a unanimous vote across the board. Wizards and witches who are of _direct_ Muggle descent (those who have _two_ Muggle parents) will find their world topsy-turvy in the following weeks as the Department of Family Affairs begins it's Herculean task of finding suitable Pureblood and Half-blood families to "adopt" them._

_Muggleborn witches and wizards who have already graduated from Hogwarts' and other such higher learning institutes as of the first of the new year will be exempted from this new law. Effective as of this January first, students of our schools will be removed from _all_ Muggle influences. The Ministry and the Department of Family Affairs are currently seeking applicant families to "adopt" Muggleborn children. Adopted children in the Magical world have all the rights associated with biological children, with the exception of inheriting entailed family property which passes on to the next oldest available _blood_ kin._

_The Department of Family Affairs is currently closing in on a new method of detecting Muggle children who possess the gene for magic. Once a child is identified as a witch or wizard, the DFA will intervene and extract the child from the family. The parents of said child will have their memories erased, neatly severing all ties between both child and Muggle parents. At that time, the child in question will be placed with a pre-approved Pureblood or Half-blood family. It is hoped that this new step will help in revitalizing our struggling gene pools as over half of the Muggleborn population in the last decade has returned to the Muggle world after successfully completing their education and gaining control over their magic._

_When we asked former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore for his thoughts regarding the Familia Adoptio Act, "it is a disgrace to all who fought to _preserve_ our world against acts of tyranny and protect it's population against the atrocities that Voldemort had planned." The former Headmaster of Hogwarts' went on to say, "depriving the magical world of the richness of the Muggle world is a great and terrible crime. Tearing families apart arbitrary in the name of procreation and preservation of our world is something that Voldemort would have applauded heartily."_

_Many former members of the infamous _Order of the Phoenix_ have reunited and plan to protest this new piece of legislation in the near future. When we asked one such member, "I'm the father of seven myself. We lost one of our sons, Fred, at _The Battle for Hogwarts_ five years ago. There's no worse feeling in all the world when you lose a child." When this reporter owled Hogwarts' to set up an interview with another prominent member, she was told that Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was unavailable due to Post-Traumatic Stress and was spending some time convalescing in her private chambers within the castle - suffering from a minor breakdown._

_When asked for his opinion, former _Order_ member and Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt replied "they've gone around the bend. We did what we had to, to protect the school and all the students there. Frankly, (Ms. Hunter) I'm surprised they (OtP) haven't been admitted into the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo's." Harry Potter, the young wizard credited with the defeat and ultimately the death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was unavailable for comment._

_This is not the first time Muggleborn wizards and witches have been taken from their non-magical parents and placed into the homes of Purebloods. This was a normal practice since one hundred AD and fell completely out practice in sixteen hundred ninety-two AD, on the heels of the founding of Hogwarts'. With the existence of a school to take over the Herculean task of educating Muggleborn children and greatly reducing the threat of discovery by the non-magical population. Prior to the founding of Britain's oldest magical institute, those wizarding families that straddled both worlds - today's oldest Pureblood families - adopted them into their families; raising them with their own magically inclined offspring. In essence, they would assume all financial and moral responsibility for their "new" children._

_When one reads the fine print, we find that the Minister has revitalized this tradition. Coming hard in the wake of the sixth anniversary of the demise of Voldemort, are our Muggleborns _safe_ in the homes of Purebloods today?_

"Knut for your thoughts, Mione."

"Must you sneak up one a person like that?" The Mediwitch tucked her wand back up her sleeve as the blonde wizard sat down next to her.

"You could never bring yourself to hurt me," the Potions instructor wrapped his arm around the witch and pulled her close. "Now, tell your _favorite_ Slytherin what's bothering you."

"The new Familia Adoptio Act," Ms. Granger said as she wiped a tear from her eye.

"What about it? It's not going to effect you," Draco handed the Lioness a hankerchief.

"No, but it is going to effect hundreds of students this term alone." Sniffling, "why is the Ministry out to get us?"

"Us?"

"Us, Muggleborns?" Staring into his silver eyes, she fought the tears threatening to fall. "All we ever want to do is learn magic and fit in. Is that too much to ask?"

Draco's eyes widened as realization hit, "with a family to guide them, they're not going to make the same mistakes that Muggleborns have been making every year since Hogwarts' doors first open."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Calm down, Mione." Sighing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Over the last thousand years, most of our traditions have been brushed to the wayside and forgotten. When the school first opened, the Founders worked hard trying to balance between the two worlds; the old and the new." Cuddling the witch closer, "after the first hundred years, our world changed. We began to make allowances for Muggleborns. Many of our great traditions were dropped because they were/are viewed as barbaric or archaic." Brushing her hair back, "after time and time again of being _banned_ from observing once sacred holidays, practicing what the Ministry has proclaimed _dark magic_ rituals because they shared some of the same elements as _true_ dark magic, and being constantly pushed aside in the favor of new ideas that supersede the old ones _without_ being given the choice."

"But a civilization, no matter it's greatness, goes stale and cannot continue to grow without the integration of new ideas and traditions."

"I agree, Mione. But look at this from a Pureblood perspective." Draco held his hands up in defense, "listen." Swallowing, he absently summoned a house elf.

"Master Draco Malfoy is wanting something?"

"A cool glass of pumpkin juice for myself and Ms. Granger," the elf bowed and disappeared. Turning back to the witch next to him, "what would you do in the Muggle world if _your_ government arbitrarily stripped you of your most sacred holidays, traditions and way of life - going so far as to _threaten_ imprisonment if you continue practicing them in the privacy of your own home. Then adding insult to injury by shoving a new culture down your throat and telling you to just deal with it or be imprisoned." Taking a glass off the tray floating before them, he handed it to Ms. Granger before grabbing the second for himself. "Every generation, we lose more and more of what makes us _unique_ from the Muggles. Magic aside, they lost their way from the Old Ways generations ago - burning _alive_ their own when they dared to hold on to them." Swallowing, "wizards like Vold-Voldemort and Grindelwald promise the return to what the older families _miss_."

"So...The older Pureblood families, like _yours_, miss raping, pillaging and murdering on a whim?"

"You're not _listening_, Granger!" Jumping to his feet, "in a perfect world we could mesh Muggle _and_ Wizard traditions _together_ and live in absolute harmony." Running his fingers through his hair, "what those two managed to do was gather together a bunch of wizards and witches who longed for the Old Ways - who want to be seen as _equals_ and not be forced to pander to politics set by vote-grabbing morons who would see the Wizarding World become an exact duplicate of the Muggle World." Rubbing his face briskly, "they _fear_ losing what little is left of _their_ world to Muggleborns. That fear makes them prime pickings for Dark Wizards looking to recruit minions."

"So than you _approve_ of this new law?" Ms. Granger asked as she finished her glass of juice.

"_Yes!_" Reclaiming his seat on the bench next to the mediwitch, "the Founders were right. Both Muggleborn and Magicalborn needed a better source for higher education." Seeing the blank look on his companion's face, Draco couldn't help be smirk. "Am I to assume that the resident Know-It-All _doesn't_ know something?" Laughing, "someone owl _The Daily Prophet_!" Calming down, "before Hogwarts, each family would adopt the Muggleborn children in their fiefdom." At the puzzled look from the Lioness next to him, "as you know the first Ministry of Magic convened in seventeen hundred." At Ms. Granger's nod, "just like many European nations of it's time; Britain was divided into little kingdoms or fiefdoms as they were called with a "lord" to over see them. Each "lord" swore an allegiance to the then ruling body, usually a king."

"But what has that all to do with the wizarding world?"

"Well, like the Muggle World at the time, the Wizarding one was constructed much the same. Sure the lowest ranked families, the poorest who had very little in the way of wealth and material assets, were listed amongst the pheasant classes. There were the tradesmen - wizards who specialized in various skills like Transfigurations and Charms. The third class was the nobles - the ones that held titles and owned properties where the lower classes lived and worked. At the top, just like in the Muggle World, was the Monarchy. Each family that was ranked in the nobility commanded a certain amount of acreage, a fiefdom. Within each fiefdom there were several villages - both Magical and Muggle." Setting his cup aside, "the wizard nobles often straddled the line between the Magical and Muggle Worlds and worked hard so that neither duty conflicted with the other. The few occasions where it did, it was worked out so that there was no negative repercussions in the Muggle World."

Turning to face her blonde companion, "what happened?"

"See back then, it was the Nobles responsibility to ensure that any child born to non-magical parents were raised to control their magic. They would adopt the child, both in the Magical and Muggle Worlds and they would become apart of that family who's fiefdom they lived in. After they came of age, they would be given the choice to return to the Muggle World or stay forever in the Magical World." Leaning his back up against the statue nearby, "the Nobles would provide food, shelter and education to their adoptive children. In return; any awards, any kind of recognition such as honors won academically or more usually in battle would be attributed to the Noble's house that they were associated with. Legally speaking, say: during that time should you have been adopted into the Weasleys, you're _personal_ achievements would be accredited to their family and their prestige in our world would rise. Now the same is also true for anything that detracts from your personal honor, thus it would reflect negatively on them as well."

"Now that you've explained it to me, it doesn't sound _quite_ as bad as how I first imagined it would be." Sighing, "I fear the restrictions that the Ministry is enacting will only drive Muggleborns over the edge and trying to flee the Wizarding World."

"We have a _good_ Minister in office now, Mione. Mavis Prince isn't Fudge or Scrimgeour. He certainly isn't any of the imbeciles that have assumed office since, either." Rubbing his hands together briskly, "he's a visionary. He'll led the Wizarding world _back_ to where we belong - as close to a Utopia we'll find in this life."

"No one's _that_ good."

"But _he_ is!"

"I'm telling you that Mavin Prince is the _worst_ thing that ever happ-!"

Draco lunged, clamping his hand over her mouth. Looking around them, he whispered in her ear. "Don't be saying _or_ thinking things like that, _especially_ here at Hogwarts where there several sets of eyes _and_ ears in _every_ wall!" Shaking his head, "_Gryffindors!"_ Glaring back into brown eyes, "one would think that they breed stupidity in your house!" Chewing his bottom lip, his silver eyes carried him into the very bowls of the castle. "Come with me!" Draco grabbed the witch's hand and pulled back inside the school, down a labyrinth of hallways and into the dungeons. The Potions instructor rushed the Medi-witch passed startled students and curious colleagues, pausing briefly to converse with the Bloody Baron before hauling the bewildered witch after him.

Panting, Draco leaned against the door that led to the abandoned Potions classroom from his school days. "What in the name of all that is divine are you doing?"

"Put your claws away, Lioness." The Head of Slytherin chided, "we'll talk once we're inside."

"Where-?"

Turning, Draco drew a symbol upon the heavy door, "don't interrupt me." Drawing a deep breath, "_something's wrong, shut the light. Heavy thoughts tonight and they aren't of Snow White."_ Tapping his forehead in thought, _"dreams of war. Dreams of lies. Dreams of dragon's fire and of things that will bite." _

Momentarily distracted, "you have a beautiful singing voice."

Blushing, _"sleep with one eye open. Gripping your pillow tight,_" Draco scowled as the door before him glowed green. _"Exit light, enter night. Take my hand; we're off to never-neverland."_ As the last syllable dropped from his tongue, the door glowed a shimmering silver before the heard the lock disengage. Carelessly, the blonde wizard pushed the door open. "Lumos," he pulled the witch inside the deserted classroom behind him before securing the door.

Wrinkling her nose at the stale air, Ms. Granger waved her wand. As the forgotten candles crackled to life around them, she stared in morbid fascination. "I haven't been in here since Professor Snape taught our class that last time in our sixth year." Absently, she trailed her fingers through the thick layer of dust that coated the desk top. Whirling on her companion, "why hasn't this room been cleaned? It looks like the house elves haven't been in here in the last five years." Waving her hand at the vast collection of cobwebs clinging to every available surface, "I can't believe that Hogwarts' elves would neglect to clean a room that's as desperate in need as this one."

"This from the witch who championed S.P.E.W.?"

Flushing from the reminder of her adolescent ignorance, "I was a _child_! I didn't know any better - and for the record, I still don't like how they're treated."

"Uncle Severus _never_ allowed Hogwarts' elves in his classroom _or_ his private chambers."

"_Uncle Severus?"_

"We're related, distantly." The Malfoy heir flushed a deeper shade of red, "all Purebloods and half-bloods are family _if_ you go back enough."

"Okay, give." Folding her arms in front of her, "why did you drag me clean through the _entire_ school? Why bring me _here_ of all places?"

"It's the most _private."_

"Private?"

Waving his wand over a nearby desk, he quickly vanished any traces of dust and cowebs before sitting down. Sighing, "while he was a teacher here; Uncle Severus jealously guarded his privacy _and_ for good reason."

Forgetting to copy her companion, the Gryffindor slumped down in the closest chair. "It must have been so difficult _and_ lonely for him. What with only Headmaster Dumbledore to confide in, to know the truth of _everything_."

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes, "that's _not exactly_ what I was talking about." Raking his fingers through his hair, "anyways." Sighing, "there is only _one_ chamber that is more heavily guarded than this classroom." Grunting apologetically, " I don't have access to it unfortunately."

"Only the Headmistress does."

Snapping his head up, "_what?"_

"You needn't look so alarmed, it's _her_ office after all."

Letting go of the breath that he didn't realize that he'd been holding, Draco sighed with relief. "Listen there are some things that _you_ need to know, if you want to continue your current state of living."

**_A/N_ : A short one, but a short time between chapters as well. The song that Draco sings to unlock the classroom door is _Enter Sandman _by _Metallica_. What can I say? I was listening to it and my fingers just started typing. Eh. **

Sic Vita Est : Thank you, I'm glad that you enjoyed the chapter.

Greyfalcon : Thank you. It's amazing what one can accomplish when you have a perfectly good example of _what not to do_.

TammaraG : Welcome. Pull up a seat and make yourself at home. The author advises you to fasten your seatbelt.

eliza6801 : Welcome, pull up a comfy chair. As long as I can keep you (readers) guessing and off balance - but still reading, than I know something is going right.

minnie : I need to go back and edit/revise some, but I'm afraid to do so while my muse is still speaking for fear she'll stop...lol...such a flightily thing.


	13. Chapter 12

October was her favorite time of year, the changing of the leaves was nearly complete and winter was fast approaching. The lawn of the school was a kaleidoscope of different shades of colors, breathtaking in it's wonder. At twenty-three years of age, Hermione Jean Granger felt at the bottom of the world. Weighed down by the knowledge that the Potions instructor had dumped into her lap, she was unsure of what to do.

During her school years, she had charged headlong into things on the heels of her two best friends. More often than not, their adventure's had resulted in one or more of them winding up in the Infirmary under the motherly care of Madame Pomfrey. Looking back, she believed that their habit of finding dangerous situations might have been what prepared them for what lay ahead of them. She wasn't foolish enough to try and convince herself that was the only thing that had kept them all alive through six years of schools and defeating the worst dark wizard of their generation.

After their victory over Voldemort, the Ministry of Magic had scolded them as errant school children. Slapping their hands like naughty children, Hogwarts' Golden Trio was sent back to school. Looking back, Hermione realized exactly how lucky the three of them where when compared to both the older Order of the Phoenix members _and _the Death Eaters. While she was grateful not to be shipped off the new and improved penal island or stripped of nearly all of her monetary assets, Hermione still felt let down by the powers that be.

The former Gryffindor closed her eyes as the ghost feelings from five years ago washed through her, dredging the memories that were best left forgotten into the present.

"_The laws of our world exist for a purpose." Shaking his balding head, "from your school records we can quite clearly see that your academic intelligence is on par with some of the greatest wizards and witches that have been. How is it, that Hogwarts' **current** poster witch for Muggleborns tromps off into the middle of no-where; completely disregarding the edicts set down for the safety of everyone and destroys priceless treasures of the Wizarding World? On top of these blatant acts of vandalism, you and your cohorts brandish Unforgivable willy-nilly!" Taking a deep breath, "than, instead of allowing the law to perform their sworn duties, you arbitrarily dispense what **you** feel is appropriate judgment on fellow citizens of the Wizarding World." Towering over the tense witch, "vigilante justice has **no** place in the modern world."_

"_Voldemort would have **trampled** all over your laws and left you hanging by your entrails! What-!"_

Stumbling, she quickly caught herself. Glancing around, she was relieved to note that no one had seen her. Straightening her robes, she slipped inside the Staff Entrance and slid into her usual seat next to the blonde Slytherin. Her chocolate eyes wandered over the Great Hall. The Charms and Transfigurations' instructors had labored for the better part of the day, transforming the Great Hall into a fall wonderland filled with scary delights.

The traditional celestial ceiling above everyone into a stormy haven complete with dashes of intermit lightening and an eerie mist covering that parted to reveal the Harvest Moon sporadically. The floating candles were transfigured into floating Jack-O-Lanterns that shimmered beneath the alien ceiling as thousands of tiny spiders yo-yoed back and forth from the ceiling. Ancient looking dusty cobwebs hung like wreaths from the Staff Table as a soft breeze wafted through the hall. The stone floor of the Great Hall had been transformed into loose, soft soil and false tombstones were planted randomly amongst turfs of freshly laid sod. Fruit bats hung sedately from the beams, swinging in time to their own music.

The four House Tables had been pushed against the far wall, piled high with concoctions that had kept Hogwarts' vast army of house elves baking and cooking for a full fortnight. Finger foods were arrayed around smoldering punch bowls as chocolate frogs hoped from one and than another; platters of cookies cut into silly spooky bats, ghosts and monsters of all kind were spread across the huge combined table tops. Seasonal gummy worms, courtesy of Zonko's, wiggled from the tops of chocolate iced cakes and slithered their way through the jello molds. Curled strings of dyed white licorice wiggled and slithered within the chocolate pudding. Solid white sugar skulls were placed randomly amongst the various dishes. From one end of the table to the other, every available inch was laden with treats from around the globe.

In the center of the Great Hall, a few feet in front of the Staff Table, a large fire pit had been setup as several dozens of house elves turned spites; cooking various stuffed meats for the feast meal. The sweet smell of roasting pork filled the hall, drawing the student population from their dorms. Carmel apples hung from several trees, their branches sheltering stone benches at the base of their trunks. Bushes sprouting sweet berries, candy corn and a multitude of different candies covered the floor where the Gryffindor House Table usually resided. The vines running over the bushes were made from licorice ropes and ended up draped over the tops of large mushroom shaped tables.

The students poured through the doors of the Great Hall, eager to begin the night's festivities. The staff watched from their table as the younger wizards and witches bubbled with excitement as they took in the transformation of the Great Hall. Hermione smiled as she watched the first years' eyes light up, the most memorable were the Muggleborns themselves. She remembered her own first Halloween Feast and the anticipation that she had felt; she shivered as the memory of hiding in the girls' lavatory pushed it's way to the surface. Friendless, Hermione had retreated to the loo to cry where no one would either hear or find her. It had been sheer dumb luck that was the night that Professor Quirrel had let loose a Mountain Troll into the castle and it had found it's way to her. Whatever divine entity had caused both Ron and Harry to look for her, she had been grateful enough to take the blame and receive her first negative mark in her entire academic life for them. That Halloween night had been the true beginning's of th Golden Trio.

A spider tickled the back of Hermione's neck, jerking her abruptly back into the present. Turning to the blonde wizard sitting next to her, "Helena and Simone _really_ out did themselves." Smiling at the house elf as it delivered a freshly cut slice of pork to her plate, "thank you." The elf bowed and scurried back to the roasting pit. "I don't remember the Great Hall ever being so festive when we were students."

The Head of Slytherin nodded, "no doubt it was because both Flitwick and McGonagall were stretched rather thin during our time here. They probably just didn't have the extra energy to burn, like these two _obviously_ do."

Tilting her head, "you don't care for them either."

"Honestly, I'm looking forward to the day those two are _retired_ - amongst others."

Oblivious to the wizard's insinuation, Hermione finished cutting her pork steak. "It's certainly going to be an interesting year."

Turning to look at the mediwitch, "you have no idea."

The Deputy Headmaster tapped his glass, "silence _please."_ As the noise level from excited students and staff alike disappeared, he bowed stiffly at the school's head.

"Thank you, Professor Rattecliff." McGonagall inclined her head at the wizard before standing and addressing the student body. "Welcome, one and all, to Hogwarts' annual Halloween feast. Our house elves have labored long and hard to provide this bounty before us." Waving her hand, she encompassed the vast selection of desert treats. "From around the world, they have collected the recipes. This year, we are being treated with a combination of delicious delights from both the Wizarding World _and_ the Muggle." Holding her hand up to stop the suddenly burst of excited chatter, "here before the Staff Table." McGonagall held out her hand, "you can see that tonight's feast has been prepared in the traditional manner over an open flame. Any students who venture within the white stone boundary, will receive one month's detention with our caretaker."

Flickering her gaze across the Great Hall, "tonight is a unique night." Leaning against the podium for support, "_tonight_ the Veil thins enough for the dead to return to our world and walk amongst us." She lowered her voice slightly, causing the students to unconsciously closer. "_Tonight_, even the ghosts that we see ever day _walk, talk and eat_ amongst us." Cradling the top of the podium with her arms, "one thousand years ago offerings were left out - in the hopes that it would deter unfriendly visitations." A warm smile found it's way to the older witch's lips, "do not fret. The castle and it's grounds is _always_ carefully warded against such visitors on this night." Resuming her seat, "let us begin!"

Tucking into her own plate full of food, "it's so nice to see Minerva back in the Great Hall for meals."

"Yes, it hasn't quite been the same." Setting his glass down, "how is her progress?"

"It's still rather early, in the scheme of things. But so far, she's doing remarkably well."

"You sound surprised."

"I'm a bit concerned that she might have found a way to circumvent the healer from St. Mungo's. Trick her into thinking that she's making a fast recovery." Setting the knife down, "one doesn't _just_ get over an addiction."

Nodding his head, "agreed. But the only thing that we can do is keep an eye on her without rousing her suspicions and support her."

Slathering her corn on the cob with butter, Hermione lightly sprinkled salt over it. "You know, in the seven years we were students here and these last few years we've been back, I've never seen any of the dead walking the halls." Nibbling on the ear of corn, Hermione swallowed as she wiped the excess melted butter from her lips. "With the exception of Hogwarts' ghosts."

Shrugging, "the Old Ways have been neglected for a _very_ long time." Tapping his goblet with the side of his finger, the Potions instructor refilled his wine. "With both the Ministry and the Board trying to bring some of them back, who knows what will happen."

"Is it wise to revise _this_ particular one, though?"

"Scared, Granger?"

Slapping the wizard's arm, "quite being a prat. Of course I'm not scared." Lowering her voice, "but what if Voldemort..."

"Even _if_ the shades from the other side slipped up on the job and let _him_ cross back, the wards were drawn centuries ago; before even the Founders raised the foundations for Hogwarts. The wards will _not_ allow the unfriendly souls to enter the grounds themselves." Scooping a portion of squash onto his plate, "malevolent beings from beyond the Veil cannot trespass here."

"Magic _that_ old isn't truly stable, Draco."

"Mione, _trust_ in the wards."

The mediwitch jumped slightly as a sudden flash of lightening slashed through the sky in the enchanted ceiling. Thunder roared outside the walls of the castle as a sheet of rain fell from the night sky. The enchanted mist above their heads thickened into a heavy fog, blocking out the silvery light of the moon. The flickering flames of the torches withered, thin smoke rose from their gutted light. The hovering Jack-o-Lantern candles flickered briefly before dying out, shrouding the Great Hall in a cloak of darkness. The light dispelled from the roasting pit danced merrily as both staff and students started at the sudden plunge into darkness.

"Lumos!" Hermione cried as she held her wand in front of her. Turning to look down the long Staff Table she was shocked to see that none of the other staff members hadn't cast the lighting charm. From the corner of her eye she watched as her wand tip glowed for a second before vanishing. "Draco?"

"No go here either," the Slytherin replied. Up and down the table, the other instructors were discovering the same phenomenon; their wands refusing to hold the charm.

Looking out over the Great Hall, the mediwitch could see that whatever was effecting the teachers' wands was also influencing the students'. Grasping the blonde wizard's hand, "I thought you said only benevolent beings could cross onto the school grounds tonight?"

Realizing that the witch couldn't see him shaking his head, "no Granger. I said only benevolent spirits could enter the grounds. Those wards were never designed to restrict the _living_."

Gripping her wand tighter, "are you saying that we're under attack?"

"No, I'm saying that whatever is effecting our wands _isn't_ a nasty bit from beyond the Veil."

"_Settle down!"_ McGonagall roared above the panicking voices of both the students and instructors. "Everyone return to your seats. Perfects, head counts!" The rumble of voices died slightly as House Perfects began to take attendance in the near dark.

"Has this ever happened before?" The mediwitch asked the Gryffindor House ghost as he went by her.

"Never, that I can recall." Pausing, "though you may wish to ask one of the others who have been in residence longer than I." Bowing stiffly, Nearly Headless Nick continued down the Staff Table to speak with the Headmistress.

Tugging on the Head of Slytherin's sleeve, "we need to get to Minerva and find out what she wants us to do." Hermione heard Draco's chair scrap across the floor as he stood to follow her as she guided herself along the table with her hands in front of her. "Oops, sorry."

"It's alright, Ms. Granger. One can barely see one's nose in this light." The Deputy Headmaster cooed in her ear as he wrapped an arm around the mediwitch.

Struggling out of his embrace, "Professor Rattecliff."

Turning to face her concerned staff, "the Perfects report everyone is accounted for." Sighing, "without light to guide the children I am loath to send them back to their common rooms."

"Why don't we simply re-light the torches?"

"Professor Dillinger, we have _tried_ that. They stubbornly refuse to light again."

"I've tried every charm that I can think of and I get no response from my wand." The Head of Huffelpuff shrilled, "anyone having any better luck?" The collective members of Hogwarts' staff responded with negative answers to the Charms Mistress.

Balling her fists, "see if the house elves can still use their magic and -" Lightening slashed the sky, drowning out McGonagall's voice. Glancing upwards at the enchanted ceiling, "we need to see about getting bedding for the students and ourselves for the night. At first light, we'll-" The Headmistress paused at the sudden silence blanketing the Great Hall. Above the thunderous noise, the sounds of footsteps echoed.

Lightening slashed across the sky, illuminating the figure suddenly standing in the doors to the Great Hall. Dumb struck, staff and students alike stared in disbelief as the figure stumbled forward, collapsing to the ground. Shaking the fog from her mind, the Headmistress rushed forward. "Severus!"

_**A/N:**_

**Thank goodness this one's done! **_Amusant, YES. I tried replying, but you have that feature turned off. PM me an email address!_

atomicmom : I wouldn't want to bet with them, that's for sure. I hope you enjoyed this one.

Sic Vita Est : It does seem like it, don't it.

Teela's Snakestaff : Just around the corner.

Greyfalcon : I was wondering if someone would pick up on that bit. My only answer to both questions is : keep reading.

eliza6801: I never said it was going to be a heart warmer, no fuzzy feelings. If I could type as fast as you can read, this story would be done.

Loyd1989: I prefer not to answer at this juncture.


	14. Chapter 13

Hermione suddenly jerked awake, sweat dribbling down her face. Wiping the perspiration from her forehead, she held her hand over her heart in an attempt force it to slow down. Sighing, she willed her respiration to slow as she rolled over and stood on shaking legs. Resting one hand on the night table, the mediwitch struggled through the fog covering her mind. Her brows pinched together as she stumbled into her bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. A niggling sensation pricked at the edges of her consciousness as she finished going through the motions of her morning routine and dressed to head down to the Great Hall. She smiled in greeting as she came upon a group of fourth year Ravenclaws and trailed them into the hall for breakfast. Humming to herself, she nodded in passing as she took her usual seat next to the Potions instructor.

"You're in a good mood, Granger."

"And you are not," Hermione chirped as she tapped her glass with the tip of her finger. "Out late, harassing the new waitress down at the Hog's Head?"

"Wench, Granger. The correct term is _wench_. And no, I wasn't _harassing_ anyone last night." Holding his head in his hands, "I met up with a few old house mates for a couple of pints of the finest ale that the Crowing Rooster had to offer."

Snorting, "you traveled all the way to Crieff to get drunk?" Shaking her head, "I'll never understand _men_."

"Let me nurse my hangover for a bit," Draco whimpered as he cautiously sipped at his coffee. "Afterwards, say around lunch, I'll be able to come up with a witty retort for you." Peeking at the witch between his fingers, "why in all that is sacred are you so _chipper_ this rotten morning?"

"I've always enjoyed Halloween, even as a child." Breaking off a bite of toast, she wiped up a bit of yolk. "Mind you that Mum and Dad were always after me to brush my teeth constantly _before and after _Trick or Treating," she chased the soggy bread with a swallow of her juice. "I bet that I am the _only_ witch in my generation that had her parents hovering over her with a toothbrush and toothpaste whenever she ate any candy."

"Granger, you're _weird_."

"Coming from you, Professor Malfoy, that's quite a compliment."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"When you're hangover's cured, you can figure it out." Smirking, the mediwitch turned to address the Huffelpuff Head. "Professor, do you need an extra hand with decorating the Great Hall for this evening's feast?"

"I have _everything_ well in hand."

"Very well, but please don't hesitate to call should you need an extra pair of hands." Finishing her breakfast, Hermione leaned close to the blonde wizard. Whispering so that only he could hear her, "was it as good for you as it was for me?" The Potions Instructor's head shot up, his silver eyes widened in horror. Unable to stop herself, Hermione laughed as she retreated from the Staff Table and slipped out of the Staff door. Shaking her head, she made her way up to the Infirmary.

As the doors closed behind her, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off. Shrugging her shoulders, she scanned her shelves and noted which of her stores needed restocking. Grinning, she could imagine the put upon sigh that the resident Potions Instructor would give her when she delivered her request list. In several ways, the blonde Slytherin reminded her of their own Potions Master. As the Dicto-Quill scratched away on the parchment, her thoughts went back to her years as a Hogwarts student.

Hermione couldn't remember a time that she hadn't defended the snarky wizard. In the beginning, she couldn't bring herself to think ill of a teacher. Even during her first year, helping the boys trying to beat a possessed Professor Quirrel to the Flamel's stone, Hermione had felt deep in her that the then Head of Slytherin wasn't as bad as the boys made him out to be. Looking back at five years worth of Potions with the stern wizard, she understood why he had been as strict as he was inside the classroom. A volatile subject such as his could easily cost a life if proper respect and safety precautions were not observed.

Outside of the classroom, she had secretly agreed with the rest of the non-Slytherin school. But playing the role of a spy and a supporter of Voldemort wasn't easy, she knew _what_ side he was on the entire war. It wasn't so much that _Dumbledore_ trusted him, but Snape's own actions in saving Harry during his time at the school that showed which side he was truly on. Every time he saved his deceased rival's son from one adventure or another, the snarky wizard proved to her his honorable intentions.

The summer following her fifth year, Hermione had been an eye opener for her. For all of her life to that point, she had spent it with her nose in one book or another letting life pass her by. With the unexpected death of Harry's Godfather, Sirius Black, Hermione had traveled home on the Hogwarts' Express in deep shock. Reading and hearing about the death of a stranger was one thin, but to suddenly lose someone that she had personally known shattered the rose-view world that she had been living in. She had spent the better part of her summer constantly crying, grieving for the life that her friend wouldn't know and for the wizard who hadn't had a _true_ chance to live. She had grieved for her innocence as well, knowing that things could never be as they had once been.

Hermione had boarded the Hogwarts' Express in the fall, filled with both hope and dread. She could almost feel the ticking of a clock deep in her bones and the icy fingers of Death himself upon her skin. A faint trembling of hope had trembled in her chest as Ron had shown the first true signs of seeing her not only as the woman she was blossoming into, but one that he was beginning to feel attraction for. Her than seventeen year old self had let her under-used imagination run wild with fantasies of the two of them and their lives together. She knew that he wanted a witch similar to one like his mother, only a smaller family. With her potential death looming over her in the uncertain times that they had been living, Hermione had felt that she could fit his mold for a wife. During the winter holidays of the same year, she had found her heart changing the course of her life.

With Harry out hunting Horcruxes with the Headmaster, both Ron and her had been at loose ends. They had been use to the three of them banding together, facing devil-what-may. With the extra time to themselves, they had explored. A late night rendezvous in the Astronomy Tower had led to them discovering that beyond the superficial, there was nothing truly binding them - no real foundation to build upon. Disheartened, Ron had tried to get her to agree to further their quest and take things further into the realm of the physical. Hermione couldn't bring herself to sacerfice not only her innocence, but jeopardize their long years of friendship. She had begged, pleaded with him to agree to put things off until the end of the war and they were both more mature. Hermione had argued that by than they would have a better understanding of what each of them wanted in a life partner. Ron had railed against her, demanding to know who it was that had "stolen" what was rightfully his.

Crying, Hermione had fled the Astronomy Tower for the comfort and security of her room. She had run blindly through the halls, heedless of any school rules that she was breaking as she desperately tried to put more and more distance between herself and Ron with his hurtful words. Hermione had run into a solid, warm wall that instantly wrapped around her. Her heartbreaking sobs were muffled in the comforting feeling of soft wool against her face as a gentle voice had whispered soothing words into her ears.

Hermione never knew how long they had stayed that way or _why_ he had held her. But as the last of the tears fell from her eyes and the last sob wrenched itself free from her throat, the Gryffindor had turned her face upwards. She had gasped in shock as it finally clicked in her head just exactly _who _she had not only run into, but was the source of the comfort that she had been feeling radiating throughout her entire being.

Swallowing, Hermione had ducked her head. After a tense moment, her source of strength stepped back and allowed her to regain her composure. She had braced herself, fully expecting the stern Defense Against Dark Arts instructor to cut her down right than and there. To her surprise, he had nodded and after making sure that she was able to find her own way without charging into anyone else who might happen upon her - the Head of Slytherin had swept passed her and made his way up to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Shocked, Hermione had stood staring long after the last bit of his billowing robe had disappeared. As she had slowly recovered from her daze, Hermione had felt a brief moment of uncertainty. She knew that Ron had still been up there, where the prickly Slytherin had gone. Torn between loyalty to a friend and her own raging hurt, the Gryffindor witch had shrugged and continued her way to her dorm. Ache of her heart gave fuel to her anger with each step she took, leaving the Gryffindor boy to his fate at the hands of the teacher he despised the most.

"Ms. Granger, Daniel's been hexed."

Jumping slightly as she was pulled from her musings, "come and sit down here." Sighing, she carefully examined the young Huffelpuff before applying a minty smelling salve. "Take this with you," Hermione handed the boy the jar. "Make sure to re-apply in three hours. If you break out or it's starts burning, come back here."

Nodding his head, "thank you Ms. Granger."

Hermione smiled kindly at the third year before shooing both Huffelpuffs out of the Infirmary. "Off with the two of and back to class." Both boys smiled shyly before hurrying from the Gryffindor witch's domain. As the door closed behind them, Hermione began starting the cot that had been used. Waving her wand, the sheets unraveled from the bed and the pillow case stripped itself off. With a flick of her wand, the bed blankets floated into the waiting hamper. Casting a quick cleaning charm, the mediwitch nodded as she quickly followed it up with one to santize the bare mattress and pillow. Hermione pulled fresh bed linens from the supply closet and flicked her wand, charming the material to make itself on the cot for her. Satisfied, she summoned a house elf to collect the week's worth of laundry before heading down for lunch.

Though Hogwarts' Infirmary was nowhere near the level of turnover as a single ward in St. Mungo's, she insisted that it be at least equal in cleanliness. She refused to allow anyone to think that just because her most stressful cases involved the rare need to re-grow bones in growing children, that she would be found lacking in _any_ part of her domain. Hermione's eyes glazed over as she walked the halls with the last few stragglers making their way to the mid-day meal. Her mind returned to the past as familiar sights stirred long buried memories once again.

Since the _Incident_ with Ron, Hermione had done her best to avoid spending time in his company. When Harry was around, she still made it a point to spend time with him and dealt with the hurt that the youngest of the Weasley boys had caused her. Ginny had at first tried to get Hermione to confide in her what had transpired between the two of them, eventually giving up when the Gryffindor Know-It-All remained stubbornly silent on the subject. Hermione wasn't sure if the younger witch had realized the futility of her attempts of interrogation or had finally weasled it out of her older brother, the only thing that she knew with absolute certainty had been a small measure of relief. If Harry had noticed any tension between his two best friends, he didn't comment to her about it.

She had been relieved when Ron acted as though nothing was going on beneath the surface when their friend was around. When Harry would disappear with the Headmaster, Hermione had learned to make herself scarce around her former best friend. The dirty looks Ron continued to send her and the snide comments had left her feeling unclean; soiled some how. Hermione had begun to spend more and more of her free time in the school's library, knowing that her friends bound in leather and made of parchment wouldn't judge her. A wealth of knowledge laid at her fingertips and she had eagerly embraced the moldy covers of the dusty volumes. The solitude of the castle's vast book vault comforted her during her darkest hours as the sixth year of her schooling dragged out.

Her addiction to the ocean of knowledge pent up in the school's library had led to more than one detention with various staff members. Even scrubbing the toilets couldn't keep her mind from going over the store of information that she had recently processed. In an attempt to continue to feed her growing habit, Hermione had charmed books to hover before her as she cleaned the deserted halls. Pages turned with a nod of her head as she had polished trophies and suits of armor until they perfectly reflected her face. When it became obvious at the end of the winter term that the Gryffindor witch wouldn't be deterred easily from absorbing the vast trove of knowledge contained in the library, she was removed from Filch's supervision and relocated to the dungeons under the Defense Against Dark Arts instructor's watchful eye.

"Ms. Granger, there was a slight accident in Potions and now Colin has a weird fungus growing out of his ears."

Nearly dropping the vial in her hand, Hermione jumped as she was caught for the second time that day lost in her thoughts. "Take a seat, Mr. Hemming." She directed the pair of Gryffindors to a nearby cot and hummed to herself as she put the blood replenishing potion away. Turning to the pair, "how did this happen?"

"We were _suppose_ to be brewing a wart removal and Colin added the dragonfly wings _before_ it turned yellow."

Nodding her head, "thank you Mr. Anderson." Rummaging through her stores, "you're fortunate that all you got was a minor fungi problem. Failure to follow proper brewing instructions can be _deadly_ to not only the brewer, but everyone around them." Grasping a milky white vial, "why my old Potions Master was a tyrant in the classroom when it came to following the instructions." Hermione shook the vial as she approached the sulking boy, "you're quite lucky with the professor you have know." At the younger Gryffindor's quirked eyebrow, "Professor Malfoy isn't nearly as bad as Professor Snape was."

She carefully measured the dosage out, "now open wide." As the boy pulled away from her, he accidentally jarred her hand. The potion dribbled down wrist and onto the floor at their feet. "Now none of that, I know for a fact that Hogwarts does not admit five year olds." Tilting her head, "besides your in Gryffindor. Buck up and take your medicine like a man." As the second year lion cub opened his mouth to voice his outrage, Hermione spooned the potion into his mouth. His lips closed around the utensil as he glared, "swallow." Shaking her head, "don't make me charm it down that throat."

Sighing with satisfaction, "you should be right as rain in an hour or so." Rubbing her hands briskly together, "now off with you two and keep out of here in the future." Hermione smiled fondly as the two young boys happily left. Replacing the stopper in the vial, the mediwitch sent it back to her cupboard. Staring after the pair, she smiled faintly in remembrance of her own school days and her absent friends. Turning back to the bed and began to remake it. Her mind wandered back down yesterday's road as her hands automatically directed her wand.

Serving her detentions strictly with the Head of Slytherin had turned out to be a double-edged sword. In the beginning she had longed for the familiar comforts of the non-judging books, while trying to remain under the DADA teacher's eagle sharp radar. She had wondered if he would use the _Incident_ closer to the start of term against her. The uneasiness had continued when the bitter wizard had shown her unprecedented kindness a month into his supervision. After a grueling detention, the professor had sat down with her and offered her a solution to her dilemma: in return for Hermione keeping her nose clean and staying out of trouble with the school's instructors, he would permit her to come down to the dungeons and use his personal library.

For the remainder of her sixth year, she had kept her nose squeaky clean. Hermione started adhering to the hours Madam Pince set and seemed to return to her normal self as the remaining duration of her sixth year wound down. While Professor Snape never thawed enough to be considered _pleasant_ company, he did prove an intellectual match for her starving mind. In between the difficult task of choosing only one book to read, Hermione found herself delving past the moody professor persona and beginning to scratch the surface of the enigmatic person that was her instructor. All too soon for her liking, Hermione found herself glaring into the eyes of the last handful of days left at the castle before the summer was upon them all. Hermione found herself covertly watching the Head of Slytherin during those relaxing sessions before the fire in the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom.

"Ms. Granger, there was an accident in Transfigurations."

Straightening up from cleaning the small cupboard near her desk, Hermione hurried into the Infirmary proper. "What kind of accident?"

"Margot was holding the pin cushion too close to her nose."

Hermione fought the silly grin that threatened to appear, instead she bit the inside of her cheek as she pressed her lips down in a thin line. "Have a seat her dear, we'll get you fixed up in no time." Patting the upset Ravenclaw on her shoulder, "though I don't understand why Professor Ventura didn't do it for you I don't know." Flicking her wand, Hermione concentrated on the poor fifth year's nose. In a matter of moments the seven inch twig, complete with a few small green leaves, had shrunken and changed back to the ginger haired witch's natural nose. "Off with the two of and back to class." Turning to the smaller of the two, "next time don't hold the object that you are trying to transfigure so close." Giving both girls a gentle pat on their shoulders, the mediwitch sterilized and re-made the cot. Shaking her head, Hermione went back to taking stock of her supplies.

Flicking her wand at a cabinet, the doors swung open. Summoning the parchment and Dict-O-Quill from her office, she riffled through the cabinet. Her hand brushed across a roll of bandages, knocking the rolled cloth from it's perch and sending it tumbling to the Infirmary floor. "Clumsy much Mione," she muttered to herself as she sent the dirtied cloth into the laundry hamper to be cleaned by the elves. As she turned to direct it, Hermione's hip collided with the corner of the cabinet. Biting her lip to keep the string of obscenities from leaping from her mouth, Hermione fought against the sudden pricking of tears in her eyes. A niggling sensation fluttered in the back of her mind and she reached out with her hand to catch the empty vial from smashing on the floor as it rolled off the top. Hermione tilted her head as she looked over her shoulder and realized what she had done. The mediwitch stared in bewilderment at the innocent container in her hand. Shelving the vial, Hermione found herself walking over to her seasonal potion stores and taking down a vial full of a hazel potion.

The Infirmary door opened as the Care of Magical Creatures instructor sneezed his way through. "Beg pardon, Ms. Granger." Tipping his Stetson, "you wouldn't by any chance have something to nip a bit of the cold on hand?"

Picking her jaw off the floor, "take a swallow before bed for the next couple of days. If that doesn't help, come back." The mediwitch handed Professor Storm the hazel-colored potion, "it feels like we've had this conversation before." Laughing nervously at the wizard's perplexed look, "I feel like I've done this _entire_ day before."

"It's the Day of the Dead, Ms. Granger." Uncorking the vial, "anything _is_ possible today." Swallowing a mouthful of the bitter tasting potion, "or you could simply be experiencing a case of deja vu." Shrugging, "thanks for the potion and good day to you." Tipping his hat, the American wizard left the Infirmary without waiting for a reply.

Shaking her head, Hermione returned to her task of cleaning her domain. The rest of the day past in a blur of activity until her clock informed her that the evening meal was about to begin. Replacing her cleaning supplies, the mediwitch washed her hands before taking one last look at the Infirnary. October was her favorite time of year, the changing of the leaves was nearly complete and winter was fast approaching. The lawn of the school was a kaleidoscope of different shades of colors, breathtaking in it's wonder. At twenty-three years of age, Hermione Jean Granger felt at the bottom of the world. Weighed down by the knowledge that the Potions instructor had dumped into her lap, she was unsure of what to do.

Stumbling, she quickly caught herself. Glancing around, she was relieved to note that no one had seen her. Straightening her robes, she slipped inside the Staff Entrance and slid into her usual seat next to the blonde Slytherin. Her chocolate eyes wandered over the Great Hall. The Charms and Transfigurations' instructors had labored for the better part of the day, transforming the Great Hall into a fall wonderland filled with scary delights. As Hermione added a juicy looking ear of corn to her empty plate, she froze. Shaking her head, the mediwitch rubbed her tired eyes. It slowly sank in that the elaborate decorations filling the Great Hall were familiar, but yet she couldn't recall ever seeing anything like them in the seven years of her own schooling.

Twisting in her seat, she tilted her head. "Draco why don't you like Simone or Helena?"

Silver eyes widened, "that obvious?"

"So I _was_ right and you don't care for them." The mediwitch mused as she nibbled on a fingernail.

Jerking her finger from her mouth, the Potions instructor sighed. "It's a _long and complicated_ story, Mione."

"Does it have anything to do with what you told me last night?" Hermione squealed sharply as the blonde Slytherin pulled her out of her seat and drug her out of the Great Hall. "Draco, stop!" Whimpering, "you're hurting me!" The Gryffindor clawed at the iron hand gripping her wrist as the stronger wizard pulled her down the deserted Entrance Hall and further away from any potential witnesses. "Draco, _please_ let me go!" Sobbing, Hermione felt herself being roughly pushed into an empty classroom. Fear mounting, she rolled off the desk that she had landed on and allowed her trembling body to collapse to the safety of the floor. She whimpered, rubbing her sore wrist as the blonde wizard cast a serious of locking and sound-proofing charms on the room.

Whirling in a sea of material, Draco pointed his wand at the mediwitch. "_**Don't EVER bring THAT subject up in public!"**_ Running his fingers through his hair, "I always knew Gryffindors were _stupid_, but by all the gods I had began to believe that _you_ were different." Tugging on his shoulder length hair, "use the brains that everyone around you is convinced that you have."

"Draco?"

Bending down so that he was looming over her, "can you even _imagine_ what will happen to me should word get out that I told you _anything_?" Pacing the length of the classroom, "you're usually better at the up-take than this. What's gotten into you, Granger?" Looming over the mediwitch, "what is your _malfunction?"_

"Stop playing the part of a bully, Draco!" Pushing him away, Hermione felt a renewed jolt of courage as she pulled herself off the floor. "I _never_ said exactly _what_ we talked about." Brushing the dust off her backside, "what's eating you anyways?" Untangling her hair from the top button of her robe, "you act like there's a dark lord out there prancing around or something." She glanced at the blonde Slytherin before turning her attention back to the state of her robes. Pausing mid-brush, "Draco?" Puzzled, she reached out to lightly touch the paling wizard on the arm.

"Hermione-"

Both froze as the unmistakable sounds of shouting reached their ears. Quickly disarming the locking charms on the door, the pair raced back down the way that they had come a few minutes before. Pushing open the doors to the Great Hall, they leaned against each other. Gasping for air, they stared in shocked silence at the scene that greeted them. With the exception of the roasting pit before the Staff Table, the hall was flooded with darkness. _"Settle down!"_ McGonagall roared above the panicking voices of both the students and instructors. "Everyone return to your seats. Perfects, head counts!" The rumble of voices died slightly as House Perfects began to take attendance in the near dark.

"We need to get up there and find out what's happening, Mione." The Potions Instructor whispered as he hurried into the Great Hall heading for the sound of the Headmistress' voice.

A shiver raced down her spine as Hermione began to follow in the blonde wizard's wake. Shaking head, the mediwitch nibbled on her lip. Torn between the pressing need to assist in this latest crisis and the ghostly specter of feeling that she should stay where she was, Hermione tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for her conflicting urges to decide on a course of action. Nodding her head, she stepped into the Great Hall as the door to the Entrance Hall groaned. Whirling around, the mediwitch drew her wand and raced towards the opening door. Adrenaline surged through her as a figure collapsed in her arms. Rolling the soaking wet figure over, "Ron?"

The ginger haired auror moaned, "Mione."

Laying her former housemate on the floor, _**"help!"**_ The mediwitch gently began patting the prone form of her friend down, looking for any physical injuries. "Talk to me Ron, what happened?"

"Minist-" A moan escaped his lips as her hands accidentally touched a sore point. Licking his lips, the auror grabbed the Gryffindor witch's arm. "Ministry is-"

"Shhh, rest Ron. I think that you have at least one broken rib." Hermione gently wiped a stray lock of hair from his clammy skin. "We need to get you to the Infirmary." A niggling sensation tugged at the back of her mind she tried to make the wizard a bit more comfortable. "This _isn't_ right," Hermione mumbled to herself as Auror Weasley's eyes fluttered close.

"Ms. Granger, what's going on?"

Turning her head, "it's _Ron_." Her blood ran cold as the ginger haired auror's face faded and was super-imposed by that of her former Potions Master's.

Kneeling next to the mediwitch, "what can we do to help?"

Tossing a hankerchief on the floor, Hermione transfigured it into a temporary stretcher. "Just stay out of my way and let me get him up to the Infirmary." Flicking her wand, she levitated the unconscious form of her friend onto the stretcher and charmed it to follow her. "Just keep everyone out, I need to check to see the extent of his injuries and treat him without interference." She hurried away from the gathering crowd and made her way back to her domain.

As Ron floated peacefully behind her, Hermione's mind was split evenly: half centered on the various diagnostic charms and healing potions available to her; the second half puzzled over the niggling sensation that was telling her that it should have been the Severus Snape who was laying on the stretcher tailing her. The mediwitch's brows furrowed as she tried to recall any recent dreams that involved the former Head of Slytherin House. Glancing over her shoulder, Hermione sighed with relief knowing that her quick-tempered friend was unconscious and unable to see the faint blush that she _knew_ was there. Coughing discreetly, Hermione concentrated on the recent dreams that she _could_ recall that didn't center around the spy in an _intimate_ context.

Even after the apparent murder of Headmaster Dumbledore, Hermione couldn't bring herself to completely hate the dark-cast wizard. Later, on the run and hiding out from virtual the entire Wizarding World, Hermione had felt as though there was someone helping them behind the scenes. Narrow misses and close escapes convinced her that there was more going on behind the scenes than any of them were completely aware of. _Fishing_ the Sword of Gryffindor out of a nearby lake and then having the goblin Harry had helped tell him that the one in the vault at Gringott's was a "clever forgery" cemented that belief. Hermione couldn't understand why the boys had believed otherwise, considering that Harry laid claim that his "mother" had shown him the way to the sword's resting place. The Gryffindor Know-It-All had been too skeptical and had waited patiently under a disillusionment charm for the _real_ puppeteer to appear. She had been disappointed when night after night of waiting, no one had showed.

Entering the Infirmary, "Swishy!" Gently transferring the unconscious auror to a waiting cot, Hermione turned to banish the temporary stretcher as the house elf appeared at her side. "Would you get a small tub of lukewarm water, the same temperature you would get for a newborn's bath, and some of those clean clothes. I don't think we'll need it, but I'd feel better if they were readily available." The elf bowed and hurried to carry out the mediwitch's instructions. Turning back to her patient, "well I don't think this was how you wanted me to see _you_." Taking a deep breath, "_he's a patient. __**Just**__ a patient." _Keeping her mantra going in her mind, Hermione carefully unbuttoned the robes of the prone wizard before her.

A few hours later an exhausted mediwitch felt that the auror was stable enough for her leave the Infirmary for time. Making a quick detour to freshen up, Hermione made her way up to the Headmistress' office. Even with McGonagall still on medical leave, the Gryffindor felt more comfortable reporting to her old Head of House than the Deputy Headmaster. Speaking the password, she waited impatiently for the gargoyle to jump aside so that she could climb the winding staircase.

Knocking, she waited for McGonagall's "come" before pushing the door open. The older witch turned to face Hermione, "has Mr. Weasley said anything?"

Taking a deep breath, "his condition is stable." Sitting in last the available chair, "he has three broken ribs. Someone got him with a nasty curse, that I _believe_ that I have contained and on the mend." Rubbing her face, she looked her mentor in the eye. "Just before Ron went under the sleeping potion, he told me _"their __**attacking**__ the Ministry."_ Shrugging her weary shoulders, "I don't know who _they_ are. But _someone_ cursed him, Minerva."

Pursing her lips, the Headmistress walked over to the fireplace and threw a pinch of floo powder into the cheery flames. _"Haven Cottage_," McGonagall's voice faltered briefly as the last syllables fell from her lips.

"Minerva?"

"Albus, I think that we are in need of a _Phoenix_ rising."

_**A/N**_

**Evil? Yes I am!**

suchrandomness : Harry's hanging around ...somewhere. I certainly try to.

atomicmom : better check to make sure your seatbelt is securely fastened.

Sic Vita Est : thank you!

eliza6801 : Thank you for your review. Stay tuned to find out :)

Artemis Decibal: Welcome, pull up a seat and make sure the belt is firmly fastened! I hope you enjoy the ride!

Greyfalcon: Well, I'm working on answering a few and maybe raising a few more :)


	15. Chapter 14

Deep within the castle that housed Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, several witches and wizards converged. Within hours of owls taking flight, bearing massives around the country, the floo connections to the school had been activated. Several arrived by portkey just outside the grounds and made the journey up ensconced in carriages. The annual Halloween feast, the night before, had come to a screeching halt with Auror Weasley's arrival at the entrance door. Perfects had hustled their housemates back to their respective dorms, the older students assisting with shepherding the younger.

He gazed quietly over the throng of bodies crowded into the small chamber, his blue eyes twinkled briefly. So many had parted ways once the war they had been fighting had come to an end, so many lives affected by the near-sighted Ministry of Magic. Late at night, when all he had left for company was his own thoughts and memories; How many could have been spared the petty backlash wrought by the Ministry and still allowed them their victory? How many families had felt the icy grasp of grief at losing one of their number, could have been spared? His heart constricted at the memory of all those who perished pursuing a happier and safer world for everyone.

"_Hush, Child, rest and conserve your strength."_

"_H-H-Headmaster?" Gasping, "I know that I am dying now."_

"_Nonsense, too many have been called." Brushing a lock of hair back, "this is not your time."_

"_But if I am **not** dying, than how can you be here?" Swallowing, "Severus **murdered** you!"_

"_It is a **long** story, but I can assure that the rumors surrounding my demise are exaggerated."_

"_Than Severus is innocent?"_

"_Yes, Child." Brushing the sweat soaked hair from the wizard's forehead. "Rest, everything will work out the way it should."_

_Coughing, "I'm dying." Grasping the burnt edges of the elderly wizard, "my son-"_

"_I will make sure he is well taken care of_-"

"_**Not like you did for Harry!"**_

"_No, Harry Potter was a special case."_

_Sighing, "do you believe in an afterlife?"_

He discreetly wiped away the lone teardrop that slipped from beneath his glasses. In the five years since he laid the Gryffindor to rest, Albus Dumbledore wasn't able to fully heal from his passing. The pain of the werewolf's lose only seem to increase whenever the old warlock laid eyes upon his orphaned son. The former Headmaster fretted, worried for the future that lay ahead of young Teddy Lupin in a world that refused to acknowledge his heroic parents. Even if he had wanted to place the young child in a home of his choosing, Andromeda Tonks would never have allowed it. Despite the fact that she herself, her daughter and her son-in-law had been Order members, the Ministry of Magic had been unusually lenient with their judgement. While she had still faced the typical hearing in regards to what they had deemed vigilantism, the Muggle living witch received a light fine compared to most of her fellow Phoenix members.

Dumbledore shivered, drawing his robe tighter around his aging bones. The leader of the Order was convinced that he had received the lion's share of the Ministry's wrath. _"Before our decision is rendered, have you anything to say for yourself?"_

"_Our world, our very **lives** were under threat as long as Voldemort remained free to wreck chaos. Wizard or Muggle, it made little difference in his grand scheme of things." Pausing to look each of the wizards in the eye, "his madness knew no bounds. No one was safe, not even those who pledged themselves into service." Stroking his beard, "what **we** did; we did for love of life and the lives of our children." Sighing, "for we are doomed without a new generation to have the fundamental **right** to grow up and make their own choices. Choices that Voldemort would have gleefully taken from them and us if he had triumphed. The death toll would be unprecedented, the survivors enslaved while those who perished would have been the fortunate ones; for **they** would still retain their freedom in the next world."_

"_Rousing speech, fit for a country pulpit. But alas, that is all it is good for, **Mr.** Dumbledore." Clapping his hands, a raven haired wizard stepped up to the podium in the center of the dimly lit chambers. "A passionate oration from a man who **knows** that he is guilty of sedition against the Ministry of Magic, indeed **all** of Wizarding Britain!"_

"_**Sedition?"**_

"_Do you **deny** that you willing entered into a conspiracy to fake your own death **and** lay the blame for said death on a member of Hogwarts' staff that happened to be a known Death Eater - which **you** yourself vouched for seventeen years ago?"_

"_Severus Snape was no more a Death Eater than I am!"_

"_So you admit that you have **dark** leanings?"_

"_I admit to nothing but my love for our world which was the **sole** motivation for my actions against the self-proclaimed wizard Voldemort."_

"_What about your alleged murder?"_

"_It was a necessary diversionary tactic, with myself removed from the equations Tom Riddle's confidence drastically increased. He become overconfident and believed himself on the cusp of victory with only Harry Potter left standing between him and his goal." Glaring at the younger wizard looming over him, "by having Severus Snape _"murder"_ me, he cemented himself with the Dark Lord and silenced any nay-sayers that remained within the Death Eaters'."_

"_Do you actually expect this governing body to buy that load of shit **and** the hippogriff that dropped it?" The wizard's lips curled, "in nineteen hundred eighty-one the Ministry of Magic **ordered** the immediate disbandment of your vigilante group. It is plain, that you failed to follow the instructions set down by those fine wizards and witches." Turning to address the assembled body members behind him, "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is a menace to society. He willfully disobeys edicts set down by the supreme governing body of Magical Britannia, placing himself and his cohorts above the laws that are put into place for the general welfare of our society." Drawing his robes closer, "with a twinkle in his eye he dispenses **Dark Age** justice on fellow citizens of our nation. Yes, this is the wizard who defeated Grindelwald." Gesturing to the defiant looking older wizard, "he should retain that honor. However, that does not give him license to run half-cocked across the country with his merry band of vigilantes. He says that the Order of the Phoenix's sole purpose was to fight Voldemort and his dark order. Yet, when **ordered** to disband - they remained united behind the backs of the Ministry of Magic and sprang to fill the posts of Aurors when the Dark Lord hadn't even returned."_

_Leaning against the railing, "ladies and gentlemen. What you see before you is __**not**__ a patriot. The term Muggles use is _terrorist_ - a term that aptly describes the unruly bunch of post-school age wizards who find they have too much idle time. Together, they followed Dumbledore galloping across the country like a modern day Robin Hood in pursuit of a wizard that was __**declared legally dead**__ seventeen years ago." Bowing his head, the wizard sighed. Looking across the line of gathered Ministry officials, "the Crown concedes that a group of __**known**__ former members of the terrorist cell self-monikered _"Death Eaters" _**did**__ in fact resume gathering in secret meetings __**and**__ did resume their former ways. The Crown further acknowledges that this group did in fact attack the castle and grounds known as Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Folding his arms across his chest, "__**however**__ the deceased wizard, Tom Riddle aka Lord Voldemort, is just that _**deceased**_."_

_Turning to face the wizen wizard, "Dumbledore jumped the broomstick by following the **stories** spun by a frighten fifteen year old boy who had just witnessed a **freak** accident in one of our world's deadliest competitions - there was a reason why the Tri-Wizard Tournament fell from favor as Cedric Diggory's unfortunate demise clearly illustrated. Trumpeting the trauma-induced hallucinations of an emotionally challenged **child**, he then proceeded to discredit the then Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge to all and sundry."_

"_Are you **quite** finished, Mr. Prosecutor?" Dumbledore asked as he gazed at the wizard over the rim of his half-moon glasses._

"_Unfortunately, no," the wizard's lips thinned. "Ladies and gentlemen, the wizard standing in the Accuseds' Circle has committed many, **many** acts that have broken Wizarding Law. So numerous, that I am afraid we would be here year 'round were we to list them all. So allow me, to only highlight the **worst** breaches of trust that Albus Dumbledore has committed." Hogwarts' former Head jumped slightly as the Crown's Prosecutor flicked his wand lazily at the far wall. The stones rumbled in place, slowly fading into the wall and leaving a smooth surface behind. The candles littering the chambers dimmed as the flames shrank to barely a glowing spark. "Let us travel back to the year nineteen hundred seventy-seven, the location is Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Turning to address the assembled body, "the memory was **donated** by one Severus Tobias Snape."_

_**Head bent over a book, a dark haired boy brushed absently against other students as he made his way down the hallway. "Hey **_Snivellus, _**watch where you're going!"**_

"_**Why don't you dig your head out of Potter's arse and watch where **you** are going?" The sallow skinned youth sneered, "not so brave without Potter and the rat lurking over your shoulders."**_

"_**Brave, huh." Scratching his chin, "I'll tell you about being **brave**, Snivellus." Checking up and down the corridor, "you don't have the **balls **to enter the Shrieking Shack tonight."**_

"_**What's so special about tonight?" The Slytherin's eyes narrowed, "what did you put in there, a boggart?"**_

_**Wiggling his eyebrows, "perhaps. Perhaps not," Black shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "You know what they say about the Shrieking Shack?"**_

"_**It's haunted, so what of it?"**_

"_**Ah, but where there's smoke - there's fire!"**_

"_**Black, that's got to be the most idiotic thing I've ever heard."**_

_**Snorting, "suit yourself." Bumping deliberately into the raven haired boy, but than everyone knows that you Snakes are just a bunch of **_cowards_** anyways."**_

_**The Slytherin's lips pressed together in a thin, hard line as his eyes narrowed. "I suppose **you** know how to get passed the Whomping Williow?"**_

"_**Easy, prod the knot at the base and passageway opens up. Follow the path upward into the shack."**_

"_**Why tonight?"**_

"_**Because," heaving a put-upon sigh. "it's the only time **_he_** is there."**_

_**Rolling his eyes, the Slytherin snorted as he stalked towards the dungeons. "Pathetic Black, real pathetic." Giving the chamber door the weekly password, he slipped inside the Serpent Den. Nodding his head to those higher in the ranks of his house as he swept through the Common Room, he sighed in relief as the door to room closed behind him. Dropping his worn satchel on the foot of his bed, he curled into the welcoming mattress and opened the book that he had been browsing when the Gryffindor had collided with him.**_

_**Sighing, "how dare that mongrel call me a coward!" Snorting, if he's lived through a mere quarter of that blasted Muggle's abuse he'd see what **real** bravery was!" Curling into a ball, the book slipped from his hands and slide off the bed. "I don't understand why Mother insists on staying with the bastard. I could **easily** support us through potion mail-order." Smirking, he wiped a tear from his eye, "just think of what a softly simmering potion could do to those glory-hound Gryffindors." His black eyes glittered, "so Black is convinced that Slytherins run from danger."**_

_**Rolling off the bed, "we'll see who has the last laugh!" Hurrying from his room, the Slytherin ignored the curious looks from his housemates as he slipped through the dorm door. He quickly fled the dungeons and slipped outside of the castle. Keeping to the shadows, Severus Snape made his way to the Whomping Willow and quickly found the knot that would immobilize the killer tree. Slipping into the passage, "lumos!" He could feel his heart thudding in his chest as the steps beneath his feet squeaked under his light weight. Sneering at the filth that covered the dilapidated furnishings in the battered room, the Slytherin quickly concealed himself under disillusionment and silencing charms and banished the footprints he left behind in the thick coating of dust. "Stupid Potter and Black, call **me a coward** will you?" Rubbing his wand in his hand anxiously, "we'll see who has the last laugh!"**_

"_**Now, Mr. Lupin, I'll return at first last as usual for you." Turning the sandy haired boy to face her, "I'll have a nice hot bath water waiting and a good meal." Brushing a stray lock of hair from the sickly looking Gryffindor's sweating forehead, "it'll be alright child." Grabbing the boy in a painful looking hug, "just **try** not to harm yourself tonight." With a final pat on his shoulder, Madam Pomfrey hurried back through the passageway and out of the crumbling hovel.**_

"_**What's that shabby excuse for a wizard doing here?" Severus tapped one long, graceful finger against his thigh. "Madam Pomfrey acts as though this has happened before." Shaking his head, "snap out of Snape! Black and Potter have obviously been planning this for months, it would take those two daunderheads **forever** to come up with something elaborate as this!" Tapping the tip of the wand against his open palm, "I wonder how they managed to blackmail Madam Pomfrey into this?"**_

_**Sighing, the pale Gryffindor quietly undressed. Folding his worn clothes carefully, he bit his lip as a tear drop slowly trailed down his cheek. Naked, Remus Lupin carried the bundle of his clothing to a nearby basket and placed it inside along with his wand. Pulling the chain, he raised the basket high above his head and fastened the chain to the wall. Satisfied that he had done everything he could to prevent his alter ego from destroying beyond repair his meager clothing, he squatted in the middle of the room and watched the night sky beyond his prison window.**_

_**Impatiently, Severus tapped his polished boot. "Come on, Potter and Black." **_

_**Remus' head jerked up, his eyes widening as a familiar scent assaulted him. "Severus?" Turning abruptly, the Gryffindor cried out as his back spasmed. His hands shot out, bracing the weight of his frail body. **_

_**The Slytherin's lips curled in a lazy vicious smile, "game's up." As he spoke, Severus dispelled the charms cloaking him. "And what do we have here?" Crouching down, he looked at the shaking form before him. "Thought you and your buddies Potter, Black and Pettigrew would pull a good **prank; **did you, Lupin?"**_

"_**Y-You don't underst-Ah!" Remus cried as his body jerked under the power of the intense spasms rollercoastering throughout his body. The flesh beneath his skin bubbled, contorting under the forced strain. "G-Ge-Get out o-of h-here!"**_

_**Twirling his wand, Severus leaned against a broken couch. "Not until your cohorts show themselves, that way we **all** can go before the Headmaster." Leaning down so that his face was level with the sweating boy, "I'll be sure to mark this day on the calendar and throw the **biggest** celebration Hogwarts' has ever seen in remembrance; the day that the Maruarders were expelled!"**_

"_**Severus, you **must** get out of here before it's too late!" Remus collapsed to the floor, his body violently flopped around as the pre-transformation convulsions. **_

"_**Are you alright, Lupin?" Severus knelt next to the spasming boy, "perhaps I should go and get Madam Pomfrey?" Scooting backwards as the other boy's fingers enlarges, their nails widening and lengthening. **_

_**Remus growled, **"get out!"_

_**Stumbling backwards, the Slytherin gasped in terror at the feral look in the soft spoken Gryffindor's eyes. "Remus?" Severus watched in morbid horror as the boy's body broke itself and re-shaped under the rising full moon. The sound of snapping bones thundered above the painful cries of his classmate. Severus' wand dangled limply in his hand as the creature whimpered, shook it's head and lifted it's eyes to stare into his own. **"Remus?"** The werewolf growled, it's lips curling back to reveal a muzzle full of sharp teeth. **_

_**Without warning, the werewolf launched itself at the frozen Slytherin. Severus cried out as it's sharp claws sliced through his school uniform, ripping away cloth and flesh indistinguishably. The werewolf rested it's nose against his throat and sniffed before suddenly crying out in pain as it was thrown across the room. Numb, Severus watched in detached wonder as the stag forced the werewolf to retreat at antler point. "W-w!" Dazed, Severus didn't realize that there was someone grabbing his uninjured arm and pulling him from the room, down the passageway and outside of the Shrieking Shack. **_

"_**You okay, Sniv-Snape?"**_

"_**Were-Were-"**_

"_**Yeah, Remus' a werewolf." Shaking his head at the paler than normal Slytherin, "come on, let's get you to the Infirmary." The Gryffindor quietly guided the shaken boy back inside the castle. **_

"_**Ah, Mr. Potter and Mr. Snape." The Headmaster nodded at each in turn, "please accompany me to my office." Turing to the stern looking witch next to him, "please have Mr. Black join us presently."**_

"_**Albus, the boy is in shock. Surely he should be seen by Poppy before-"**_

_**Waving her concern away, "nonsense. Minerva, you give Mr. Snape here too little credit." Patting the stunned boy's shoulder, "our Slytherin students are made of sterner stuff. Why they could almost **be** Gryffindors!" Chuckling, he guided the pair of students passed the Lioness and towards his office. **_

_**As they walked behind the old wizard, James Potter glanced sideways at the shell-shocked boy. "Snape, you alright?" To his dismay, the ebony eyes that usually held so much anger were empty. It seemed to him that the Slytherin was in desperate need of the school's mediwitch, despite the Headmaster's belief otherwise.**_

_**Sitting done at his desk, Dumbledore gestured to the pair before him to be seated as well. He shrugged inwardly as he watched the Potter heir pull the unresisting Slytherin boy into the chair closest to the fire. "What happened tonight, James?"**_

"_**Sir, I was up in Gryffindor Tower and Sirius came in laughing." Shrugging his shoulders, "I asked him what was so funny." Shifting in his chair, James lowered his eyes. "He said that Snape would no longer be a bother and that he set him up for the ultimate **prank."** Glancing imploringly at the elderly wizard, "he sat there, in the Common Room, and said that he'd told Snape how to get into the Shrieking Shack. He said that he told Snape that it had to be tonight and only cowards wouldn't go in there." Glancing at the frozen boy, "nothing riles Snape up like being called a coward." Looking up at the Headmaster, "Sirius thought it would be **funny** for Snape here to meet up with Remus after his change."**_

_**Kicking the chair leg with his dirty shoe, "anyways I yelled at Sirius. I told him that if he didn't care if he **murdered** Snape, then at least he should care about getting Remus' killed." Frowning up at Dumbledore, "he **laughed. **He said that nothing would happen to Remus because **you** were headmaster here, even if Snape was killed."**_

"_**Thank you, James." Nodding his head at the door, "you can go back to Gryffindor Tower now." The Lion's seeker nodded and hurried to the office door, "and by the way; ten points for saving two of your classmates' lives and another twenty for displaying the infamous **__Gryffindor courage__**, my boy." James Potter nodded his head as he glanced at the granite form of Severus Snape before exiting the office. Sighing, the Headmaster turned to the remaining student, "your attention please, Mr. Snape." Numbly, the sullen Slytherin lifted his gaze to look at Dumbledore. "You've heard what James Potter had to say about tonight's events?" The boy nodded his head slowly, "difficult times are looming ahead of us. I **__need__** my Gryffindors for what is to come and I cannot permit a gremlin in the works." Rising to his full height, Dumbledore loomed over the fifteen year old boy. "Understand that I do not take any satisfaction from this, **__but__** I must do this. The needs of the few are far out weighed by the greater need of the many." Leaning across his desk, **__"you will _not_ repeat a single word that has been spoken in this office tonight! __**If I find out you have, **_you _**will be the one expelled and cast out of Wizarding Society." Roughly grasping the boy's chin, "have I made myself clear?"**_

_**Beaten, Severus nodded his head dumbly as he stared into the ice cold blue eyes of the most powerful wizard alive. Satisfied with the Slytherin's copulation, "fifty points will be removed from your house. If anyone asks, make something up." Steeping his hands together, **"dismissed** and send Mr. Black up here." Dazed, Severus stumbled to the office door and slipped outside.**_

_The torches flickered, growing and casting a greater light throughout the chamber as the image of a defeated Severus Snape faded into nothingness. "As you can clearly see from this memory, instead of finding a solution that would be fair all around - Albus Dumbledore instead **protected** the dragons and **punished** the victim." The Crown Prosecutor flicked his gaze over a paling wizard, "the victim was bullied by the one who was suppose to protect him." Whirling suddenly, he pounced on the former Headmaster. "Tell me, Dumbledore; in the pensive review of the **Shrieking Shack Incident aka Prank**, how long was it from the time of injury to the time that Severus Snape received medical attention?"_

"_Immediately, of course." _

"_**Really?"**__ Snorting, "because there are __**no**__ records of Severus Tobias Snape being treated for a Werewolf scratch __**anywhere**__ in the medical records at Hogwarts." Turning to face the assembled group behind him, "in fact, __**Severus Snape's **__affidavit states __**clearly**__ that he received healing assistance from one Lucius Augustus Malfoy when he returned to the Slytherin dorms." Advancing on the elderly wizard, "fascinating that there is no evidence to back up _your_ statement? One therefore must wonder, how many more of our children __**you**__ bullied throughout your tenure. How many were __**driven**__ into the darkness by your __**maverick**__ regard with their lives?" Looming over the flushing wizard, "this wasn't an isolated incident either; neither was it the last time that you got your jollies by bullying Mr. Snape." Flicking his wand carelessly at the viewing wall, "exhibit B; pensive memory __**donated**__ by Severus Tobias Snape."_

_**Aged by only a couple of years, worn down by the path that his life had gone down; Severus Snape passed restlessly on the small grassy knoll. He tugged his blood speckled robes tighter around his thin frame, muttering to himself. A loud **CRACK!** vibrated in the thunderous silence of the night. Whirling around, his eyes widen briefly before tossing his wand at the older wizard's feet as he sank to his knees. "Don't kill me, **yet!"_

_**Sneering down at the black mass before him, "what message does Lord Voldemort wish **delivered?"_

"_**Not **him**, I'm here on my own accord."**_

_**Grabbing the younger wizard's arm, he roughly pulled back the sleeve of his robe. "You've been branded one of his and yet you've come to me?" Jerking the wizard, "what is it that **I **can give **you** that **he** cannot?"**_

"_**The Prophecy...The Dark Lord...**Lily!**..He's going to kill them!"**_

"_**I'm afraid that you must be more specific than that."**_

"_**Lily!" Swallowing, "he thinks the Prophecy speaks of Lily's child."**_

"_**Surely, Voldemort would spare Lily if only **you** asked him to-Ah, I see that you already have!" Grasping the shaking wizard by the front of his robes, Dumbeldore pulled him closer. **"Pathetic!** Why would I want to help a sniveling worm like you, Snape? What about **her** child, did you ever think that she would happily go along as though he didn't exist and wasn't murdered by your master?"**_

"_**Hide them! Protect them!" Severus begged, **"all of them!** It matters not as long as Lily lives!"**_

_**Twirling his wand, "and what will you pay me in return?"**_

_**Bewildered, "pay?"**_

"_**Yes, **pay**, Snape." Coldly gazing down at him, "my help has a price tag." Tilting the stunned wizard's face upwards, "are you willing to pay my fee?"**_

_**Swallowing, "anything!"**_

"_**Go away, until I have need of you." Without another word, Dumbledore disapparted.**_

Dumbledore was jerked out of his musings as the last Order members took their seats and turned to face him expectantly. "Welcome, it has been a _long_ time since we have gathered together. Mostly out of fear of what the Ministry of Magic would do if we discovered meeting, even just as old friends often do." Taking his seat, the old wizard sighed. "These last five years have been a trial for all of us. Just as the shock of finally defeating Voldemort began to fade, we were all denied the right to process the stages of loss from that horrific battle." Looking around the table, "thanks in part to both the Ministry _and_ Voldemort, our numbers have drastically diminished. We _must_ recruit new members, _but_ do so without the Ministry's knowledge." Looking at each in turn, "be as slippery as a Slytherin and as intelligent as a Ravenclaw when sounding out fresh allies. The new Minister of Magic, Mavin Prince, has eyes and ears everywhere."

"With all due respect, the Ministry is no position to so much as slap our wrists - seeing as they are currently under attack."

"Point well taken, Arthur. However, I believe that caution is indeed called for despite the current state of things."

Slouching in his chair, "I wish Professor Snape was here."

Startled, Dumbledore bit down hard on his tongue to conceal the surprise welling inside of him. _Coincidence only, Albus, that you were thinking about him just a few moments ago._ "Why do you say that, Mr. Creevey?"

"Well he did manage to fool You-Know-Who for so long, he'd be the one I send in to get information and such. He'd be able to find out if the person or persons we ask to join the Order were working for the enemy or not." Dennis Creevey flushed slightly under the scrutiny of the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Valid point, my boy."

"Agreed, Albus." Nodding his head, he turned and stared at the older wizard. "The question is: would Severus Snape be on our side _if_ he were here?"

"Why ever not? Severus was never _truly_ dark, despite the facade he showed." The former Headmaster bristled indignantly.

"_Truly_, Albus? We never knew what kind of hold you had over him that would make him _heel_ at your command."

"Arthur, is there a problem?"

"Not at all, Headmaster."

The chamber door opened as Auror Weasley was helped inside with the assistance of the school's resident mediwitch. Turning to the older wizard, "you get _ten minutes_ before I escort him back to the Infirmary." Helping her former housemate to sit, "he really shouldn't be out of bed as it is."

Smiling kindly at the former _Brains_ of the Golden Trio, "of course my dear."

Hermione stepped back, keeping enough distance between them so that her patient didn't feel as though she was hovering over him. "Don't _try_ me, Headmaster. I've had a _hell_ of time the last couple of days."

Feigning interest, "how so?"

Flushing, "I had what I now consider a bizarre dream and it has left me unsettled."

"Dreams in our world have the power to carry messages or warnings. What was your strange dream about?"

Sighing, "I dreamt that I went down to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast. Close to the beginning of the feast, Minerva had just delivered her annual feast speech when suddenly we lost the use of our magic."

"A common fear amongst our kind, was there more?"

Nodding her head wearily, "we were just getting around to lighting the Great Hall with Muggle methods when the doors were flung open and Professor Snape collapsed in the doorway." Shrugging, "I 'woke up' at that point."

"It seems that our dear Potions Master is on quite a few minds lately," Dumbledore glanced meaningly at the Weasley Patriarch and his successor. "Is that all?"

"Not quite," Hermione licked her lips. "When I actually made it down to the Great Hall, I was able to _predict_ the conversations that I had with people and I _knew_ what decorations would be hung in the Great Hall despite my last visit there being at the noon meal _before___the professors had a chance to get started." Shifting her weight nervously, "I was even ready for the Professor to come stumbling in through the doors." Glancing apologetically at her friend, "I was shocked when it turned out to be Ron."

Stroking his beard, "interesting indeed." Turning to the ginger haired Auror, "what happened at the Ministry?"

Swallowing, "yes." Breathing deeply, he slowly exhaled. "I was returning to the Ministry at the end of my shift." Glancing up, Ron noticed the older Gryffindor's raised eyebrow. "Since the _sightings_ four years ago, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been sending out a handful of aurors on random patrols." Shrugging, "the general population isn't aware of them and I think that Kingsley wants it kept that way." Shifting in his seat, "I was just crossing the courtyard and getting ready to file me 401A before clocking out."

_Instinct had him diving, rolling until he was safely hidden behind the large potted plant. His wand slid easily from the wrist holder, slipping into his hand. His blue eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange of hexes and curses flying back and forth. Gritting his teeth, Ron ignored the sudden frantic pounding in his chest as he sought to identify which group were friendly and which was not. Having just graduated from the Ministry Auror training program, the youngest Weasley wizard wasn't accustomed to the high volume of butterflies tickling his stomach._

_Circling around both groups, Ron kept his wand relaxed. He found it difficult to fight the urge to tense his muscles, more self-hampering than helping. Pressing his back against the granite pillar, he cautiously inched himself around. Quickly identifying his fellow aurors, Ron quickly shot off a couple detaining charms that he had recently mastered. Hurrying over to his comrades, "are you all right?"_

"_Yeah, mostly. Henning's was hit with _something_. Look at his leg, have you ever seen anything like that?" _

_Ron crouched down next Henning, "he needs a mediwitch."_

"_Tell me about it, but those bastards had us pinned down!"_

"_Who are they?"_

"_No clue, Weasley."_

_Nodding his head, "get him to St. Mungo's and I'll go take a look." Keeping as low as he could, Ron hurried to the other side of the chambers. Pushing a fallen piece of stone off the body beneath, "what in Merlin's name?" The tip of his wand brushed against the copper scales coating the unconscious body. "What dark creature are you?" He grunted as he pushed the fallen rock off of the body's head and stumbled backwards. The Gryffindor covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he stared in fascinated horror. "What kind of _sick_ mind comes up with these things, anyways?"_

Shaking his fogging head, "I never found out what they called themselves. All I know is what I saw." Swallowing, Ron rubbed his tired eyes. "Their bodies were _covered_ in scales like a snake's, the one that I uncovered was a copper color, but I saw others that were silver, bronze and gold running around the Ministry. This _guy's_ head was shaped like a badger's, the eyes were almost like a dull yellow like powdered gold." Unable to suppress the shiver that shot down his spine, "whatever they are, they're _not_ human."

Leaning forward, using the table for support, "you weren't able to obtain a sample from one of them?"

Shaking his head, "sorry. I was only thinking of getting the bloody hell out of there and keeping my skin intact."

"What of the Minister?"

Hanging his head, "I don't honestly know. The last thing I heard, was Kingsley telling everyone to fall back to Hogwarts." Looking up, "has anyone else made it here?"

"I'm sorry, Auror Weasley, but no." McGonagall said as she laid a comforting hand on his arm.

"Then I failed," Ron sobbed. "I shouldn't have left them behind, one more wand could have made the difference!"

"There is no use in berating yourself, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore said as he passed the distraught auror a hankerchief, "there are many times in war when we must retreat in defeat before advancing in victory."

"But-"

"_Enough!" _Hermione stepped forward, "your ten minutes are up." Turning to the upset Gryffindor, "let's get you back up to the Infirmary."

"One last question, Mr. Weasley."

Whirling around, _"no!_ I said _ten minutes_ and they _are_ up." Taking a step closer to the older wizard, "if you more questions than you can ask _later_." Glowering at her former headmaster, "I will not tolerate any set backs caused by _you_ or anyone!" Helping her friend from the chamber, Hermione refused to back down.

"You're being unreasonable!" Dumbledore thundered as he shot to his feet, "the fate of our world could very well hinge on what young Mr. Weasley could tell us!"

Lazily flicking her wand, Hermione forced the former school head to sit back down. "That's _your_ problem, not mine." Pivoting, Hogwarts' mediwitch escorted her patient from the chambers.

"My, my Hermione has grown into her claws." Arthur applauded, "About time to see the Lioness in her show itself."

"Arthur, if you have nothing constructive to add, shut up!"

Leaning forward, "resorting to bully tactics?" Shaking his head, "since your _whipping boy_ isn't around these days I'm sure that you're finding life in general quite frustrating."

Before Dumbledore could reply, Nearly Headless Nick floated through the wall on his right. "Headmistress, your presence is needed at the castle main gates."

"What's seems to be going on, Sir Nicholas?"

"It would appear that there is a group of aurors requesting permission to enter the grounds."

Nodding her head, McGonagall rose quickly from her seat. Turning to the resident Potions Instructor, "if you would accompany me?" Surprised, the Malfoy heir nodded and followed her out of the chamber. Once the chamber door closed behind the pair, Dumbledore spoke an incantation as he tapped the surface of the table with his wand. The solid oak wood surface faded, revealing the real-time scene at the castle gates.

McGonagall marched down the long drive from the Entrance Hall to the castle gates, comforted with the knowledge that Draco Malfoy was at her back. "Thank you kindly for sending Sir Nicholas to fetch me, Professor Storm." Turning to address the quivering mass of robes that appeared be aurors, "wel-"

Tipping his hat, "no problem at all."

"I am Headmistress Minerva McGonagall,"the Lioness drew herself up to her full height. "Draco Malfoy, Potions Instructor _and_ Head of Slytherin House."

The group of huddled together for a moment longer before slowly expanding, widening their circle like a blossom opens to the sun. "Professor McGonagall, I'm afraid that we bear ill tidings."

Stepping back in shock, "M-Minster?"

Mavis Prince drew himself to his full height, pushing a stray strand of ink black hair behind his ear. "The Ministry of Magic for Great Britain _and_ Northern Ireland has fallen into the hands of these _terrorists_!" Pausing to collect himself, "there is currently no word on either the state of St. Mungo's and Gringott's." Drawing his robed tighter against his lean frame, "until we know for _certain_ - Hogwarts' is our last great bastion!"

_**A/N**_: **Dumbledore bashed - check. ...Anyways it's been a while since I've managed an update and with things currently going on in R/L, it **may** be a while for the next installment of our saga. But never fear, it shall continue as there are unanswered questions and **more** questions to be asked! I hope that you all enjoyed my birthday gift to you!**

eliz6801 : I hope that you have fingernails left!

Sic Vita Est : Hopefully this chapter cleared a few things for you


	16. Chapter 15

**Voldemort Returns?**

Linda Hornstaff, _The Quibbler_

Last night the Ministry of Magic was attacked by unknown assailants. It is unclear who is responsible for this catastrophe at this time.

There are speculations, rumors abound of a third rising of the terrorist cell known as _Death Eaters_. Many readers may recall the initial rise of the dark wizard self-monikered as Lord Voldemort over three decades ago and how he was ultimately brought to an end due to the paternal sacrifice of Lily Evans-Potter and her deceased husband, James Harold Potter at their home in Godric's Hollow. The then, one-year old Harold James Potter survived the Killing Curse and put an end to Voldemort's atrocities for nearly two decades.

In Mr. Potter's fourth year, the remnants of Voldemort's Dark Order re-grouped. Revitalized with former Hogwarts' Board of Govenors' chairman Lucius Malfoy as the new de-facto head of the dark militia. The Death Eaters once more returned to the scene the night of the Tri-wizard Tournament - spilling all alongside the death of Hufflepuff house-member Cedric Diggory and further tramutizing Hogwarts' favorite Gryffindor; Harry Potter. It wasn't until a three years later, when Voldemort re-appeared _alive_ at the _The Battle of Hogwarts_ that active dissidents were transformed into believers. While the seemingly miraculous appearance of the worst dark wizard since Gellert Grindelwald, was defeated in nineteen hundred forty-five by former Hogwarts' Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, exonerated Lucius Malfoy as the then reigning Dark Master of the Death Eaters, Voldemort's return only confirmed speculation of the unlimited power of magic we weld. Speculation has risen in the streets, that in fact, this latest attack on Wizarding Great Britain is another rise of the Heir of Slytherin's.

**Death Eaters Return?**

Horatio Hogwash, _The Daily Prophet_

Harry Potter, renown for _twice_ defeating the megalomaniac known as Tom M. Riddle a.k.a Lord Voldemort, proved without a shadow of doubt that he was _not_ hallucinating during the Tri-Wizard Tournament during _The Battle_ when the dark wizard re-emerged after being declared legally deceased for nearly two decades.

Five years after _The Battle of Hogwarts_, darkness is returning to Great Britain. Last night, an unprovoked attack that resulted in dozens _confirmed_ dead and dozens more listed as missing - including Minister of Magic, Mavis Prince. The Minister, as you may recall, was the Crown's Chief Presiding Prosecutor during the infamous trial of former Hogwarts' Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. The Minister's star has risen to unprecedented heights after successfully impeaching the than Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Mavis Prince is already in the history books of the Wizard British Isles as the creator of _Atrum Terra_, the new island prison where the surviving Death Eaters now reside - during the of the late Minister Chavis Christenson, succeeded the late wartime Minister Rufus Scrimgeour who replaced Minister Cornelius Fudge.

Eyewitness accounts agree that these _"Death Eaters"_ are far different than what we have seen in the past. Survivors of the attack have been shuttled off to Muggle healers as St. Mungo's is under attack as this special late edition is being prepared for press. Descriptions vary from account to account; all concur that this latest attack was unprovoked and the identities remain suspect.

Mass Slaughter At Ministry!

Crystal Sawtooth, _The Guiding Star Gazette_

Last night, the Ministry of Magic was the target of an unprovoked and surprise attack by an unidentified group of wizards. There is still no word as to who this new terrorist group is, nor any information in regards to what they hope to achieve.

For the last five years, since the defeat of Voldemort for the second time, Wizarding Britain has enjoyed a sense of peace within her borders. A with the occasional disturbances, families have sought expert warding of their homes and businesses - a remnant of paranoia that is the Death Eaters' legacy. With the sudden attack on the nation's highest offices, many families throughout the island country are feeling vindicated in regards to the extensive wards. Charms masters throughout the nation will once more feel the overwhelming pressure as the public will bear down up on them for their skills.

New Species of Dark Creatures?

_Potion/Curse Results in Werewolf-like Creatures_

Jacob Moonglow, _The Magical Enquirer_

While the rest of magical Britain slept safely in their beds last night, the Ministry of Magic was under siege from unknown assailants. It's agreed that the attack itself is concerning - and we hope for the families of Ministry workers - our attention is drawn to the more compelling element of the attack itself; the combatants. account of the assault agree on one troubling point - the attackers weren't human.

"_Spells just **bounced** off of them!" Junior-Auror third grade Travis Hoppenstance said, "there were four distinctive kinds running around. They all seemed to be able to communicate with each other non-verbally - we never heard a sound as they were throwing hexes and curses."_

"_It was pure chaos," Assistant Under Secretary to the Department of Magical Transportation Leon Polenski said. "We never stood a chance, they were so well-coordinated that it was like we were under attack from another country."_

"_I didn't know until much later when I got here (St. Andrews' - a Muggle Hospital) that I knew what had happened. I was just filing the last my reports so that I could go home to my wife and kids when all hell broke loose." Travis Havenpool, 38, of Surrey said while leaving the Muggle healers. "I heard a couple of blokes talking, saying that it was rogue Aurors." The ginger haired wizard shrugged as a faraway look filled his haunted blue eyes. "I don't know **who** it was, only that the Ministry of Magic is in shambles."_

**Wizard Economy Plummets!**

_**Goblins Freeze Vaults**_

Laura Tinsley, _The Daily Prophet __**Special Edition**_

Following the slaughter that took place at the Ministry of Magic, Gringotts has surrendered to the invading force.

In a surprise announcement, Tender-izer, the Goblin Manager of the centuries old bank released the following statement.

_It is no longer the nature of Goblin race to seek undesired violence. The Goblin Board has therefore peacefully agreed to relinquish_ allegiance to the currently rising administration of Britain. All assets held within the bank will henceforth be frozen until such time as their owners provide sufficient proof of allegiance to the ascending power of Great Britain.

Many wizards and witches are frantically trying to "prove" allegiance to this as of yet unknown terrorist cell that has simultaneously felled two of Wizarding Britain's highest institutions. Meanwhile, Gringotts has sealed it's doors and released all non-Goblin employees from their payroll - promising a re-hire once they can provide proof of allegiance. With the Ministry in shambles, citizens are left clueless and broke as they wait.


	17. Chapter 16

An unearthly fog crept through the Forbidden Forest, hugging close to the ground as it wound itself around trees and through the ground vegetation. The nocturnal inhabitants fled before the smoky green mass blanketing the slumbering earth. The fog curled around the cold boulders protruding from the forest floor, coiling around plants and trees in a dark embrace. The unnatural fog froze at the edges of the great forest, hungrily looking out across the open grounds that housed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly.

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a large gray boulder shivered as a figure stepped into the night air before settling back into it's appearance. Leaning back against the trunk of a nearby tree, the figure waited. Curious tendrils of the pale green fog rubbed against the figure's legs as though seeking approval.

"Greetings, Great Basilisk."

"Report, Dennis."

"The Ministry of Magic is yours as of yesterday..."

"Yes, I know."

Swallowing hard, "your Emissaries report that the goblins in charge of the British Branch of Gringotts has agreed to your terms and have begun to systematically convince their former employees to swear allegiance to your administration." Straightening his shoulders, "over half of their employees have returned to work and more are seeing the advantages of service."

"How are things progressing with the Ministry?"

"The Department Heads have been all replaced with loyal soldiers, Dominus." The wizard bowed, "so far only a small fraction of Ministry workers have sworn loyalty. However, I'm sure as your plans progress, their numbers will climb drastically."

"How many perished?"

"Fifteen of your loyal soldiers fell in the take-over, the Ministry lost over forty percent of it's wok force when they attempted to resist the turn-over."

"Hm."

"St. Mungo's fell not an hour ago. Many of the wounded aurors were taken there before your forces arrived and attempted to prevent them from establishing your presence."

"How many?"

"A mere four of your men were lost."

"Indeed."

"Your spies report that Albus Dumbledore is no longer at his residence in Gordic's Hollow and there whispers of the Order of the Phoenix re-banding."

"That old coot is not your concern." Towering over the balding wizard, "he is off-limits to everyone!" Glowering down at the cringing wizard, "your concern is keeping me up-to-date on my troops movements and status."

"Yes, Dominus."

Settling himself against the tree trunk once more, "continue."

"The shopkeepers of Diagon Alley are quickly jumping on board with your administration, apparently they are all eager to take advantage of the tax breaks and your protection." Chuckling softly, "Hogsmeade has been left alone per your instructions."

"Good, Hogwarts and the village must be seen as a safe harbor."

"Shall I pass along any messages or orders, Dominus?"

"Maintain our grip on the previously discussed areas. Have the Silvers spread the word that any witch or wizard who refuses to align themselves with our forces will be forcibly re-located to the new camps." Pausing, he debated internally with himself. "I want control of The Daily Prophet, The Quibbler and every other newspaper in the country. Make sure everyone understands that I want this done quietly - as in behind the scenes. The general public is already nervous, I don't want to see any riots in the streets or give any ammunition to Dumbledore and his group of trained monkeys that can be used to recruit new idiots to their side." Tapping his fingers on his thigh, "too many of my loyal soldiers have already been lost in this endeavor. I won't see many more fall before seeing the re-birth of our world!"

"As you wish, Dominus." The balding wizard bowed, "after the newspapers?"

"You'll report back to me using the usual method."

"As you so command."

"Progress on the educational camps?"

"There are four up and waiting on student arrivals. One south of Surrey, one east of Blackpool, one west of Edinburgh, and the new one north of Cardiff. The instructors and educational materials are all in place."

"Excellent, pass my approval to those who are involved."

"As you wish, Dominus."

"Any reports from my messengers?"

"Many of the Continental Governments are stalling, I believe they are waiting to see if you will succeed or not before throwing their support behind you."

"Indeed, how very Slytherin of them."

"The Asian Nations have followed Japan's lead and have welcomed your Emissaries." Adjusting his weight, "while the Japanese Emperor has not openly agreed to an alliance as of yet; I believe, as does several of your officers, that it is only a matter of time before the announcement is made."

"The Colonies?"

"The Yankees are watching, waiting to see what the rest of the world will do before forming an alliance or attempting to attack us."

"Why do you say that, Dennis?"

"Your envoy has been met with polite civility and treated with all due hospitality across the water, but sources have leaked that their Magical Congress and Senate have been diverting monetary resources into strengthening their borders and their standing forces."

"I still do not see a cause for concern." Shaking his head, "no. Had the Americans not welcomed my emissaries into the country or did whatever was within the power to protect themselves from an unknown element - let's face facts, I am at this point - I would then be concerned." Folding his arms across his chest, "let the Continent sit on the fence, the Asians wait on pins and needles. The Colonies can shake their sabers in the shadows all that they want." Dominus' lips curled slightly upwards in a cruel mockery of a smile, "in the end, they will either ally themselves or be crushed." Turning to the cowering wizard before him, "dismissed." Turning, he vanished in a swirl of material back into the anonymous boulder.

Shivering, the balding wizard dis-apparated away as the pale green fog suddenly surged forward. It rushed past the tree line and spilled across the open grounds, flooding the earth.


	18. Chapter 17

A dark cloud hung over the castle that housed Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it's inhabitants went about their days in a somber shuffle as they waited for what the future would bring. A full month had passed since the unexpected fall of the Ministry of Magic and St. Mungo's, the betrayal of Gringotts; and the stress of the unknown was beginning to take it's toll on students and adults alike. All down the line from the Headmistress to the youngest of the First Year students passed through the corridors bearing the weight of fear.

Soon after the desperate arrival of the Minister of Magic himself, the castle found itself cut-off from the outside world. Owls bearing news from outside where met by a magical shield which resulted from the pale green fog that had crept in over night and confounded the adults from within, preventing even written information from entering. Students worried for their families stranded beyond the school's boundaries as their instructors struggled against the great tide of despair, trying in vain to distract their charges from the present circumstances. Families commenced raising wizard tents along the parameter of the mysterious magical dome that cradled the school grounds. The village of Hogsmeade became a mecca for wizards and witches longing to catch glimpses of their loved ones imprisoned within.

Deep within the somber atmosphere of the castle, the vast army of house elves hummed in perfect harmony as they went about their tasks. Laundry was freshly done, the cleaning was cheerfully preformed in the hundreds of rooms and the kitchen was kept warm, filled with dozens of scents of freshly prepared foods. As they labored, the house elves passed their innate sense of peace and calm throughout the stone castle. All but invisible to the other magical inhabitants due to their social standing, hundreds of eyes watched silently as the castle was brought to life through dusting and polishing.

"Slinky is bringing the food Mistress McGonagall ordered." The house elf bowed as he lowered the tray onto the table before the pair. "Is there be anything else Slinky needing to bring?"

"No thank you," Dumbledore responded. The aged wizard returned his attention to his former pupil, dismissing the house elf completely. Slinky nodded and faded from the wizard's sight, his slight body blending easily into the stone wall. "It's nice to see your pallor returning to a normal color, Minerva." Slipping a biscuit from the tray, "despite the events that are unfolding around us."

"It's maddening, waiting here like a nervous flock of sheep." The Headmistress rose and walked towards her office window, "we are waiting for the wolf to howl so that we can start running in circles." Leaning against the window frame, she gazed out at the near translucent dome capping the school grounds. "No one has been able to figure out what exactly the purpose is to imprison us here like common criminals." Rubbing her shoulder, "most of the student body is experiencing cabin fever and several of the staff members are slowly losing their wits." Turning to look at her former supervisor, "the portraits have all gone mad."

Chuckling, "the portraits have always been mad." Wiping the last few crumbs from the biscuit out of his beard, "it comes from hanging on the same walls for hundreds of years."

"Really, Albus!"

"Now Minerva, you really need to learn to take these things in stride." Swallowing a sip of his cooling tea, "don't take it hard." Setting the cup and saucer down, the older wizard took another buscut from the tray. "You've only held the post of Head for only five years, it's not an easy position to be in." Swallowing, "you need to relax and learn that while the castle portraits can be a good a source for information. You must remember that they have their own agendas and that you must sift through the various layers in order to be left with the bare facts."

"For over thirty years you were Hogwarts' Head, Albus." Dropping her napkin on the tray, "you threw poor Severus to the baying wolves." The former Transfigurations Mistress towered over her mentor, "don't tell me that you tried to save him!" Pressing her hand against her chest, "you waltz in here like the king of the castle and expect everyone to bow and scrape - scurry off to do your bidding." Poking her finger into his chest, "I have news for you. You were de-throned and you can't deal with that fact." Inhaling, "you may still be the head of the Order. I wouldn't take that from you, Albus, but you need to realize that you abandoned your post to Severus who was forced away from it. This is my post now and I would appreciate you behaving in the manner that befits a Hogwarts' guest and not a staff member."

"Minerva, I-"

Slinky silently exited the office, reappearing inside the castle's kitchen. "You be needing, Slinky?"

"Master be wanting a tray of tentacle tarts and tea."

Slinky bobbed his head as he whisked the tray off the table before popping into the Minister of Magic's quarters. "Slinky is bringing Master's lunch."

"Thank you, Slinky." The Minister balled up the parchment in his hand, "your service is appreciated." Tossing the wadded ball into the growing flames, "please express my gratitude to the other elves for their loyal service." The house elf bowed before fading from the wizards' sight.

"Is it really necessary to pander to the elves?"

"I am disappointed in you, Draco." Turning to face the platinum Slytherin, "the elves are like the castle portraits - they see and hear everything that goes on within the confines of this fine institution of learning." Reclining in his seat, "I know that your father has tutored you since the day your conception was confirmed at St. Mungo's in the arts of Slytherin."

Sighing, "it's just that I find it difficult to make nice with the help."

Nodding his head, "I don't expect it to come easily to one born with a silver spoon in his mouth." The Minister's lips curled slightly at the memory of the younger wizard's birth. Wrenching himself back into the present, "please try and remember that while the Hogwarts' house elves are on the lower rungs of the proverbial ladder - they still are a valuable asset and should be treated as such." Pausing, the Minister titled his head slightly. "Think of house elves, especially Hogwarts', as a living, breathing stock portfolio. Invest wisely and you will reap untold rewards; neglect it and fall."

"Putting it that way, I understand."

"Good," pulling a fresh piece of parchment from a hidden drawer. "we must all pull together." Glancing knowingly at the current Head of Slytherin, "I fully expect everything flow smoothly."

"Yes, Minister." The blond wizard nodded as he waited for the elder wizard to finish his scribbling, knowing how much he detested interruptions. "Will you be joining the staff for the evening meal?"

"In the month that I have been here, have I ever?"

The Potions Instructor inclined his head before standing, "if you have no longer have any desire for my company?"

"Yes, yes." Waving his hand at the Malfoy heir, "run along now." As the door closed behind him, the Minister absently tapped his forefinger against his lips as he stared pensively into the cheery flames in the hearth.

Slinky quietly edged forward and slipped the folded piece of parchment from the table in front of the absentminded Minister before popping into the castle's kitchens. Hurrying past the boiling pots and the rising dough, he skidded to a stop in front of an old elf. Bowing, "Slinky has got it."

"You's be giving that to Nam and be putting the pudding in the cold storage for later."

Slinky bowed, his long ears flopping in front of him and hitting the floor before hurrying off to find the house elf as the elder had instructed. The old elf shook her wrinkled head and turned back to supervising the younger generation's cooking.

Slinky, relying on his species natural instinct for navigation and location of specific indviduals quickly made his way to Gryffindor Tower and slipped past the students still lingering. Arriving at his destination, "Nam?"

"Nam is I." A pretty elf responded as she finished banishing the remains of brightly colored confetti from the chamber.

"I's to be giving this to you's." With a flourish, Slinky produced the crinkled parchment.

"You's be charming?" Nam asked as she shyly accepted the parchment.

"I's ..." Slinky fumbled, struggling for the right words as the female house elf batted her longer eyelashes. Swallowing, the flushed house elf popped back to the kitchens. The sound of Nam's soft laughter ringing in his ears.

Shaking her head at the youthful house elf, Nam slipped the parchment into her pillowcase and finished cleaning the dorm room. Once satisfied, Nam hurried through the castle and slipped silently outside. Relying on her species' social status and her own innate magic, Nam made her way across the open grounds. The house elf slipped inside the single room hut, "here for Sir!"

Accepting the wrinkled and stained parchment, "thank you ...?"

"You's be great wizard truly!" Excitedly, Nam bobbed her head. "I's be Nam, Head of Lion Tower service elves."

"Thank you, Nam."

"Master Professor Storm Sir most welcome!" The elf bobbed her head as the sandy haired wizard fought to hid a grimace.

Shaking his head with a sigh, the Care of Magical Creatures instructor unfolded the parchment. His eyes widened briefly, "Kreacher!"

**A/N:**_ Whew! Three chapters in one week! Sorry about that lack of updates, Real Life has been killing my Muses! I hope that you enjoyed this one._

_**notwritten**__ : Welcome to the story, pull up a chair and get comfy._

_**Greyfalcon**__: More questions? Lol, I'm in the process of answering a few - hopefully!_


	19. Chapter 18

"Hold still!" The mediwitch snapped as she applied the brown salve to the burns. "You're behaving worse than a first year student."

Growling softly beneath his breath, "a minor injury and your Headmistress marches me here like an errant student and leaves me defenseless under your tender care."

"We need every able bodied witch and wizard when we are attacked." Wiping her hands on a cloth hovering nearby, Miss Granger pressed her lips together as she surveyed the damaged arm. "Just what were you doing in the Potions Lab?"

"_Brewing_, obviously."

Snorting, "that much is as plain as the nose on your face." She clucked as the wizard stiffened, "what were you brewing? Or should I say "attempting to brew," huh?"

Narrowing his eyes, "you're bedside manner leaves much to be desired."

Rolling her eyes, "I treat over five hundred students and a dozen faculty members for nine out of twelve months of the year. It is not my intention to be desired, only obeyed in matters that I contain the superior knowledge in. Now hold still!"

"Madam, you presume too much!"

"Quit being a spoiled first year and just answer my question."

Narrowing his eyes at the resident mediwitch, "Dreamless Sleep."

Shaking her head, "I keep a healthy stock on hand." Turning, she marched across the room to her cabinets. "All I you needed to do was ask."

"As decent as your Potions Instructor's skills may be.."

"How dare you! Draco Malfoy may be a typical pain in the arse, disjointed and cynical Slytherin; however, he was taught the fine art and subtle science that is Potion-making by Professor Severus Snape - _one of Britain's youngest and most gifted Potions Masters_!" Pausing to draw a breath, the former Gryffindor placed a hand over her thundering heart. Her breasts heaving in righteous anger, "aside from Professor Malfoy's own instruction; I happen to brew the bulk of the Infirmary's stock, as I was also under the tutelage of Professor Snape." Leaning over the startled wizard, "which _includes_ the Dreamless Sleep Draught!"

Recovering quickly, he tugged his robes back over his shoulder, shoving his injured arm into the sleeve. "Put away those claws, Kitten." Towering over her at his full height, "brewed by these hands." He turned his calloused hands upward, and held the well used palms before her chocolate eyes. "One cannot be too careful when one has enemies everywhere."

"You were a Slyherin, were you not?" Cocking her head, "yet I cannot find you anywhere mentioned in _Hogwarts: A Student-Alumni History_."

Arching an eyebrow, "and if I_ had been sorted into the noble House of Slytherin?_"

Letting him evade the second part of her question, "the Sorting Hat is sadly guilty of neglecting of listing all house qualities."

"Indeed?"

"Slytherin: wherein dwells the cunning, the ambitious." Smirking, "and the paranoid." Turning her back at the stuttering wizard, she shook her head. "you look positively scandalized, Minister. Surely as a proud alumni of the Serpents' Den you should be spouting the wondrous virtues of your misunderstood house qualities rather than standing there miming a fish out of water." Hermione sniped as she rummaged through her potions cabinet.

Composing himself, "your instructors are bloody saints." Leaning against the wall, "once this madness is sorted; I shall put our artists to work - the Ministry shall commission bronze statues of each of them to line the walk to the Great Door." Folding his arms over his chest, he curled the corners of his lips. "For-warning those seeking academic instruction within these halls of their elevated educational status of the instructors employed at this institution."

Arching an eyebrow at the smirking wizard over her shoulder, "despite exaggerated rumors; the only one of my former Hogwarts' professors that to ever express exasperation at my thirst for knowledge was in my third year - Sybill Trelawney." Picking inviable lint off the shoulder of her robe, "and that was because Divination was nothing more than cheap parlor tricks. Worse than any Muggle, at least with those you know beforehand that it's all sleight of hand."

"Divination is not something one can learn from books."

Tilting her head, she regarded him quietly for a few moments. "It's poppycock and boulder-dash!" Shaking her head, "don't tell me that you believe in prophecies?"

Chuckling softly, "we make our fortunes just as we create our own fates." watching her through hooded eyes, "however I do believe that your memory is deceiving you."

Hermione's eyebrows scrunched together as she stared at the vial in her hands, her chocolate eyes glazing over as the world comprising of the present reality blurred. Her thoughts carried her back into the past, into the world of Yesterday. A familiar face floated to the surface of her mind, dragging buried memories to the surface.

_"Go ahead Harry, Ron." Shifting the weight of her bag, "I just want to ask the professor a quick question about the essay we just got back."_

_The red haired Gryffindor shook his head as he rolled his eyes, "you're completely blimey."_

_"Perhaps we should wait for you, Snape's in a right nasty mood today."_

"_Professor Snape, Harry." Re-adjusting the book bag on her shoulder, "one would think that after four years of having him teach you and risking his life to help you - you would show more respect for the man." Sighing, Hermione brushed her bangs from her forehead in annoyance. "Thank you for the offer, guys." Edging away from her friends, "I'll see you in Charms." Dismissing the boys, she turned her attention to navigating through the student exudes and made her way to the Potions Master's office._

_Hermione leaned against the door frame as she waited for the Slytherin Head to dismiss the Snake he was speaking with. As she waited, the bushy haired Gryffindor mentally reviewed the essay that had been returned to her. Her brows furrowed as she went back over the assignment, double checking everything that she included._

_"To what do I owe the honor of your presence, Miss Granger."_

_Startled, Hermione squealed as her heart leapt into her throat. "Professor!" Holding her thundering heart with her hand pressed against her chest in fear it might burst from the adrenaline rush, "you startled me."_

_Snorting, "obviously."_

_"About my essay on the uses of Dragons' Blood, Professor."_

_Shaking his head, "all grades are final." Pinching the bridge of his nose, "in the four years you have been a student here at Hogwarts and Potions class; have I ever changed a single mark?"_

_"No, Professor."_

_Arching an eyebrow, "and pray tell me, Miss Granger; what would possibly give you the illusion that this time would be different?" Looming over her, the Slytherin Head scowled down at her. "Do enlighten me, Miss Granger, why I wou-ah!" Biting his lip, the wizard scrunched his eyes shut and fell abruptly silent._

_"Professor?" Forgetting about her growing embarrassment as the Potions Master had been dressing her down, "are you all right?" Bypassing years of conditioning to avoid physical contact with her instructor, Hermione rested her free hand on his trembling shoulder. "Is there anyone I can get for you?" As her well-worn book bag dropped to the stone floor at her feet, "perhaps I should floo Madam Pomfrey or Professor Dumbledore?"_

_Working through the sudden searing pain, "as this is only the beginning of your fifth year - I would advise you to forget what is happening right this instant and return your attention back to your academics." Pulling back, "unhand me." Tearing his arm from her grasp, "if you are still here by the time I return - Gryffindor will have a snowball's chance in Hades in winning the House Cup for the next fifty years." Folding his arms over his chest, "that's even factoring in the remote possibility of Potter defeating the Dark Lord." Clenching his jaw, the Potions Master stormed from his office and disappeared through the dungeon classroom's doorway in a swirl of robes._

_Worrying her lip, Hermione retrieved her book bag. "Be safe, sir."_

Shaking her head, "no my memory is fine." Selecting a vial of clear liquid, "your Dreamless Sleep."

Folding his arms across his chest, "while I do appreciate your persistence."

Chuckling, "just take the damn potion!" Sighing, Hermione pushed the vial into the crook of his arm. With a muttered charm, the mediwitch flicked her wand at the wizard's arm before shooing him out of the Hogwarts' Infirmary. Once she heard the door close and the sound of the wizard's footsteps fade, Hermione retreated to her office. Despite what she had told the Minister of Magic, the mediwitch slouched in her chair. Troubled by the cascade of memories, Hermione felt herself fade away from the present once more as the past returned. Carried away on a ocean of memories, her hands roamed over the surface of her desk under their own direction. Her fingers caressed the soft velvet of the quill feather as her eyes rested unfocused on the brimming bookshelf across the room.

_"Hermione, what's the rune sequence for strengthening home wards?"_

_"You haven't completed the work Professor Vector assigned last Monday?"_

_"Awe, come on, Hermione." Shrugging his shoulders, "there's still twenty minutes until we have to be in Ancient Runes." Brushing his red hair back, "what's the rune sequence?"_

_Rolling her eyes, "honestly! Ronald, I don't understand why you insist on waiting until mid-day meals to complete assigned work." Gathering her books, "if you're going to insist on using lunch for a homework completion time." Sliding the last of her texts into the bag, "don't expect me to swoop in and save the day." Slinging the straps over one her shoulders, "I'm off to class." Looking back over her shoulder, "see you in there." Hiding the smirk, Hermione hurried from the Great Hall. As she passed through the doorway, the Gryffindor Lioness could hear her house mate's sputtering in her wake. It wasn't everyday that she denied helping one of her best mates, but every once and while Hermione felt as though the youngest Weasley wizard could benefit from being forced to stand or fall on his own two feet. Shaking her head, she hurried down the corridor._

_Slipping into her seat at the back of the classroom, Hermione slipped the Runes text out and lightly brushed her finger over the cover. Tracing the intercut design, she hummed softly to herself as time passed and more of her fellow classmates pooled into the classroom. Her mind drifted to the upcoming holidays and her revision plans before leaving Britain with her parents to visit family in France._

_"Afternoon class," Professor Vector said._

"Ms. Granger!"

Jumping slightly, Hermione dropped her quill. "Yes, Ms. Slater?"

"There was an accident in Charms, can you help Kayla?" The petite brunette whined as she pushed her embarrassed friend in front of her. "We were practicing hair changing charms as part of our lessons in glamours."

Nodding her head, Hermione guided the shy third year to the nearest cot. "And," the mediwitch gently prompted.

"Some of the other students decided that it would be amusing to start a color changing war when the professor left." The third year Huffelpuff twittered as her legs dangled from the cot. Reclining, "Professor Dillenger was so angry when she came back inside from her conference with the Deputy Headmaster. She sent poor Kayla here to be taken care while she removed the minor problems."

Waving her wand over the rainbow colored hair, "it's alright." Cupping the timid third year's chin, "let's have a good look." Hermione gently titled the girl's face upward until they were equally looking each other in the eye. Smiling, "I see what happened here." She whispered a complex incantation as her wand tip briefly rested on the different colored strands of hair. "There, that should take care of everything." Patting the relieved girl's shoulder, "next time try not to get caught in a glamour charms war."

After sending the two third years back to their classes, Hermione retreated back to her desk.

**A/N: A long time in coming - It's been a hectic few months. Dealing with first my father returning briefly to the hospital, not on speaking terms with my mother, our local Farmers' Market started back up in April and we're struggling to keep enough product in stock as well as moving in the next month's time. This in addition to TONS of other small things have taken time away from the computer.**

**I apologize that it's taken so long to get this chapter out - I am NOT abandoning the story, but slowly piecing together the next chapters as time allows. So until our next installment...**


	20. Chapter 19

Grey eyes stared across the lake, missing the shimmering beauty of the morning glow off the smooth water. His mind turned inward, dredging up the past.

_Light danced eerily from the few wall scones that hung from the chamber walls as he stood wearily next to his father. His eyes remained down cast as he listened to the Dark Lord outline his plans to take Hogwarts and kill Harry Potter, securing for himself the Wizarding World of Great Britain and the tentative plans for the rest of the world. As he listened, Draco couldn't help but compare the ramblings of the megalomaniac pacing before the assembled Death Eaters to the Muggle Adolf Hitler and the failed Third Reich. He had only been recently exposed to the trials and tribulations of the Muggle World when he had accidentally stumbled upon Hermione Granger's book bag. Thinking of the perfect prank to play on the Mudblood Know-It-All, the book had fallen open. To Draco's horror and later, fascination, he had found himself reading the book. The prank forgotten, he had hurried back to his dorm with it. After finishing the book, he couldn't help but draw similitaries between the two. Confused, Draco sought out his godfather knowing that his own father would be lost and confused as he had. _

_Draco had found the resident Potions Master brewing in his private lab and had questioned him at length. He hadn't hesitated to reveal where and how he had come across the text, and nodded his head in acceptance that the book must be returned. He had gone to the Head of Slytherin, knowing that the wizard himself was a half-blood and had been raised in the Muggle world until his entrance to Hogwarts. The two brewed potions side-by-side as Severus explained the Second World War of the Muggles, Adolf Hitler's philosophy and his charismatic ability to brainwash millions of people. In the wee hours of the night, they compared the actions and propaganda boasted by the Muggle dictator and the magical one. Draco realized that they both were equally insane and had managed to prey upon the hatred of individuals, stirring up fear until their numbers swelled and the general populations lived in fear of their own lives. _

_Draco worried, interrogating his godfather extensively about what the future could hold for their world. Severus Snape was not a fan of divination, in any form. Draco knew that it was with great willpower that the Potions Master reigned in his temper and forgone his lecture on the useless bit of parlor tricks that Sybill taught high in her lofty tower. Instead, Snape had drawn the younger Malfoy into his private sitting room and ordered a late dinner. Their discussion had continued throughout the night and was only ended by the need for Draco to freshen up for his morning classes._

_During lunch, while the Great Hall was full of bostrious students, Draco had managed to slip the text back into Hermione Granger's book bag and retreat safely back to the Slytherin table. His mind was still on the book and the knowledge it held as he automatically went through the motions of eating his lunch. Any appearance of being distracted was either attributed to the common knowledge that the Dark Lord would soon be marking the children of his followers or the presumption of him planning a prank on the golden boy of Wizarding Britain, Harry Potter. It really didn't matter to his fellow housemates either way, none were eager to disturb the Malfoy heir._

_It took a couple of weeks, but Draco had managed to maneuver the Gryffindor alone with the assistance of his Hogwarts well-placed godfather. Draco had spent nearly two hours convincing the skeptical Hermione of his honorable intentions before she was willing to unbend a small fraction to hear him out. He drilled her about Muggle history, particularly the Second World War. To Draco, she had seemed surprised and weary when they had first sat down in the library under the hawk eye of Madam Pince. But when he had surrendered his wand in an Olive Branch, Hermione had seemed to relax further. _

_After the intimal meeting in the library, the unlikely pair met outside prying eyes. It would not have boded well for either one had the wrong set of eyes seen them in peaceful company. From Hermione, Draco was able to gain a valuable insight on Muggles and Muggleborns. He was careful to watch his speech and mannerisms around those who were the offspring of Death Eaters and Voldemort's sympathizers. From the blonde Slytherin, Hermione gained insight on the world she was eager to enter. Hogwarts was a fine learning institution, but it could not hope to teach her or any Muggleborn the subtle nuances that went along with the world they were entering. _

_Though wizards and witches spoke English, just as their Muggle counterparts, Hermione discovered to her horror that the Wizarding World had a language unique to itself. Body language spoke just as loudly as the verbal or written word did. Hermione learned how to project the right body language depending on company, familial hierarchy, etc. It was during these lessons that Hermione glimpsed the reasons behind so many pureblood wizards and witches allying themselves with the insane monster that the Dark Lord was. A simple toss of her hair could be seen as an invite to either a sexual encounter or direct insult depending on who was on the receiving end. Draco taught her the finer nuances to watch for when a wizard indicated he was interested in a witch and the correct responses to show acceptance or not, amongst others. Through their mutual exchange of customs and information, the unlikely pair of pureblood and Muggleborn formed into a closet friendship of sorts. _

_Hermione had been convinced that her Slytherin friend was doomed to be marked against his will and therefore, if found to be on the losing side, would be shipped off to Azkaban Prison. Draco had been convinced that should the Dark Lord succeed, Hermione's fate would be sealed. She, as a Muggleborn and close friend of Harry Potter, could expect a quick death if the Dark Lord was feeling generous or if he was not, to be kept alive and tortured or tortured and passed around amongst the Death Eaters for their sport. _

_Just before apparating to Riddle Manor, Draco wondered what the outcome of the meeting would be._

Draco sighed as he stirred from his rock beside the lake. In the end, neither one of them had to worry over the other as the Dark Lord had yet to mark the children of his Death Eaters before Harry Potter had killed him.

**A/N:**

**Sorry it's taken a LONG while between chapters and this one's a short one. I beg the forgiveness to all of you who have stuck with me. 2013 was a weird busy year just as it predessor, 2012, was. Alot in my life has changed. I met a wonderful and amazing man who drives a "Big Rig" for a living and we've spent the last two years rambling across the lower 48 States. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter as you can see, I haven't abandoned or forgotten it or you. I'll try and update as I can, internet is not reliable on the road. ***HUGS******


	21. Chapter 20

Dumbledore groaned as he found his way back into consciousness. The throbbing in the back of his head informed him that he was still amongst the living. The old wizard lay still, knowing that any movement would only intensify the pain. While he willed away the pain, the former Headmaster turned his attention inward trying to piece together the fragments of memories.

"_Dumbledore, what do I owe this __**honor**__?" The Minister arched an eyebrow as the wizard settled himself down at the table._

"_You don't like me very much, Minister. Why is that?"_

_Snorting, "are you seriously asking me to __**count**__ the ways?" Shaking his head, "very well then. While I agree __**to a point**__ that every child should have the opportunity to receive the very best education that is available, I don't agree with allowing a dark creature to be housed in anything __**less**__ than the optimum security housing. I especially would't allow a group of adolescent __**children**__ with a history of targeting their fellow students with malicious attacks - Pardon me, __**pranks!**__"_

_Dumbledore bristled, "you're biased based on one piece of the bigger picture! Remus Lupin was an exemplary student who -"_

"_Who stood by while and participated in those attacks! Lupin was no hurt angel, Dumbledore! You turned a blind eye to the antics of those three students in particular to conceal the fact that not only had you placed __**every**__ student and staff member in danger but willfully broke one of our laws!" The Minister slammed down his tea cup, "it isn't just Severus Snape's memories that I have gathered my information. You were very fortunate that I was not minister at the time, had I been the Dementors would have been the least of your concerns!"_

_Leaning forward, "you __**knew**__ that Tom Riddle was growing ever closer to the dark. You __**knew**__ that he had cornered Horace Slughorn and learned the dark art of splintering his soul and that he was making Horcruxes __**before**__ he even graduated! You manipulated the Wizarding World, moving everyone around like pieces on a chessboard. No, Dumbledore, I __**know**__ all about you and your scheming ways. You've been pulling the strings behind the scenes for well over fifty years!" He snorted, "oh don't look so surprised! The Prince Family has kept tabs on you and your's - nothing but a disgrace to Wizards and Witches everywhere!"_

"_You won't be satisfied until we completely remove ourselves from the Muggleborns."_

"_You're a fool." The Minister spat, "the Muggleborns are an __**essential**__ part of the Wizarding World. Every family needs the new influx of fresh blood, otherwise we'd end up with families filled with the likes of those inbreed Blacks!" Shaking his head, "no Dumbeldore, we __**need **__ the Muggleborns." Settling back in his chair, "wouldn't you agree Professor Storm?"_

"_Whole heartedly, Mr. Minister." Stepping out of the fireplace, "I apologize for being late. You know how things go when you have a class full of snot-nosed spoiled brats to deal with."_

"_Indeed."_

_Albus Dumbledore stared at the new arrival, it was the first time that he had a good look at the new Care of Magical Creatures instructor. A tick started in the back of his skull as he tried to place the familiar, yet unfamiliar face and voice. "I see the old man has finally decided to find his way down here to the __**lowly**__ dungeons."_

"_I have often said that one should not underestimate one's opponents."_

"_So you have." Turning to the former Headmaster, "phoenix got your tongue? Come now, Dumbledore, surely you remember me."_

"_I can't say that I do," Dumbeldore replied. "I have never been to the States, yet I feel as though I __**should**__ know you."_

"_Here, let me help you." Storm sneered, "finite incantem!" The incantation had barely left his lips before the charm was lifted. The professor smirked in satisfaction, "nothing like a little reunion."_

"_Harry?!"_

"_Yes, Old Man." Procuring a seat between the Minister and the former headmaster, "I know, I'm dead. Or at least __**persumed**__ dead. It's amazing what one can do with well placed friends."_

"_I don't understand, m'boy?"_

"_**Don't**__! Don't you call me that! I have never been you're "boy", Dumbledore!" Snapping to his feet, he began to pace. "__**You**__ left me in the __**tender**__ and __**loving**__ care of my mother's sister and her family. A family that abhorred magic and anything magical." Turning to stare at the older wizard, "do you know that I spent my first three years being beaten, starved nearly to death? Do you know if it hadn't been for my mother's friend, Severus Snape, that I would have __**died**__ when I was nearly five years old from the beatings my __**loving**__ uncle gave me and the rat poison that my cousin slipped into the sewage that served as water that I was allowed to drink? If it hadn't been for Severus Snape, my __**loving**__ relatives would have killed me!" _

_Running his hand back through his hair, "I survived my aunt and uncle's house because Snape managed to find me despite all that you did to try and conceal my whereabouts. It was Snape who forced my relatives to feed me, clothe me and get me medical attention when I needed. After Snape's first visit, neither my uncle nor my cousin dared to lay a hand on me." Glaring into shocked blue eyes, "they didn't dare as I suddenly had a champion in my corner who __**bullied them**__ for a change." Staring into the fire, "I know you're wondering about my years here at Hogwarts. See Snape __**knew**__ that he suddenly appearing as my champion, in my corner, was a dangerous thing. It wasn't only Voldemort that he had to keep appeased, but you as well."_

_Turning to stare back at Dumbledore, "Snape was truly a master at deceiving his __**masters**__."_

"_Impossible!" Dumbledore protested, "Severus Snape was a soldier for the Light! If what you say was true, he would have reported it to me."_

"_Uh-huh and you would have ignored it." Snorting, "you thought you were so __**clever**__. Using Snape's feelings against him to turn as a spy against the Dark Lord when you never had any attention of protecting my parents."_

"_That's __**not**__ true!"_

"_Lier!" Potter's eyes bulged as he glared at the older wizard, a wildfire raging in the recesses of his green eyes. "You wanted the Prophecy to come true! You moved everyone around like pawns on a chessboard and when they were no longer needed, you threw their lives away! You can't deny it, you threw Sirius' life away and you even had the balls to admit it to me! You did the same with my parents and Neville's parents!" Leaning over the former headmaster, "how many people were thrown away after their __**usefulness**__ expired?"_

"_We were fighting for our world, for the world our children would inherit - there were bound to be casualties!"_

"_Perhaps, if you continue to tell yourself such, you will one day come to believe it." The Minister injected, "as for myself, I __**know**__ different."_

"_**You! You've turned Harry against me!"**__ Dumbledore shouted, his magic swirling around him angrily._

"_No, Dumbledore." The Minister calmly regarded the aggravated wizard, "you managed to accomplish that all on your own."_

_Turning to the younger wizard, "Harry ..."_

"_You see, Snape never was __**your**__ man either." Potter shook his head, "I admit at times I found it hard to pretend to be naive and willing to fall into line like a good little soldier - just as you wanted. When Voldemort finally fell, well that was one less obstacle in the way." Slipping his wand out from his sleeve, "there is only one __**living**__ person left to deal with." Smirking, "lucky me I get to be the one to deal with __**you**__."Potter flicked his wrist, summoning chains to coil around Dumbledore's legs and lash his arms to his side._

"_Harry?" Dumbledore struggled against the restraints, his energy quickly disappearing._

"_The more you struggle, the __**harder **__you fight it - the __**faster**__ the chains absorb your magic." The Minister calmly supplied, "we're on the dawn of a new world for wizards and witches everywhere." _

"_Relics like you are a just a reminder of what our world was becoming," Potter added._

"_Don't look so frightened, Albus. All good things must come to an end after all."_

_Glancing at the Minister, "you mean all __**bad**__ things."_

_Chuckling, "run along now Harry. It's rude to keep the guest of honor waiting on you."_

_Bowing his head, "come along __**Headmaster**__." Potter flicked his wand and Dumbledore floated after the disppearing wizard. _

"_Do remember to clean up your mess this time." The Minister called after them._


End file.
